Reasonable Doubts
by Gowdie
Summary: MOVIEVERSE, L/R Logan and Rogue are having severe communication issues.
1. Impasse

Title: Reasonable Doubts 1/5 - Impasse   
Author: Gowdie  
Category: Logan and Rogue romance. Just enough angst to get the story moving, a lot of laughter and eventually a happy ending. Hopefully like life!  
Rating: PG13 for language and vague mumbled suggestions of sexual possibilities.  
Archive: Please dear God, please let someone want this. Just please also let them send me a message so I can write a thank you note and visit.  
Disclaimer: Unless extreme amounts of giddiness and laughter have recently been declared material gains, then no I am not profiting from this story since I clearly do not own these characters.  
Feedback: Yes please! I promise to say thank you!   
  
Thanks: To Kim and Diebin for both offering support and encouragement the second I mentioned the words "writing a story". To my real life friend Narla for listening to me ramble on and on about Logan and Rogue even though she doesn't get the pairing, proofing this story and most of all helping me hide the evidence of my latest addiction from my disapproving roommate. Now that is what real friends are for.  
  
Author Notes: WARNING! I am in a really time consuming program at school and while I want to say I will post once a week, please don't hurt me if I am late.   
  
Note to PETS: I realize Scott only has a brief cameo in this part and I shamelessly use him to poke fun at Logan, but I promise he will be much more realized in Part 2. Please don't send the authorities after me. If there is a similar support group for Storm, I am sorry, she is going to remain pretty much in the shadows. I don't feel the movie gave me enough of her to feel comfortable writing her.   
  
  
  
  
Jean Grey was in a candy-coloured hell. Pastel pink, blue, purple and white balloons floated around her. She was balancing a napkin in her lap with sandwiches cut into hearts and stars. On her head she was wearing, of all things, a hat made of a paper plate covered in ribbons and bows. Sordid, boom, chica, chica, boom, boom music was emanating from the big screen television. It was a surprise shower turned bachelorette party and it was one of the most unsettling events of her life.   
  
The wedding was only two weeks away and she still wasn't sure how she felt about proceeding at this delicate time. Magneto had been released from prison six months ago. With Senator Kelly having been replaced by Mystique it wasn't too much of a surprise. The surprise was that in the past six months they hadn't heard a whisper from the Brotherhood of Mutants. The quiet was more unsettling than any attack could have been. Obviously they were waiting for the perfect moment, whatever that was. Jean and Scott had offered to postpone the wedding but the Professor refused to hear of it. He told them quite frankly that there would always be a battle on the horizon, but they also had lives to lead. They were not to put their future on hold indefinitely due to Eric's manipulations. They would be alert and ready but they would also carry on. Even with Xavier's blessing, Jean still didn't feel at ease.  
  
However, at the precise moment she had an entirely different moral dilemma on her hands. The tawdry music was the soundtrack of a horrendous porn extravaganza. A group of recently turned eighteen-year-olds had supplied the film as a giddy demonstration of their newly acquired adulthood. In a confusing uproar of giggles the tape had been inserted and played before Jean had understood what was happening. Now she was sitting directly opposite a rather traumatized looking Rogue. Jean had watched the girl's face turn from shock to disgust to something new she couldn't quite identify.   
  
Jean managed to get Ororo's attention and made a pointed glance at Rogue. The other woman took in the girl's appearance raised her eyebrows and gave a slight shrug. The two women came to a silent agreement; they would let Rogue take the lead in this situation. If they tried to stop the film their motives might become apparent and they did not want to cause Rogue any embarrassment or make her the centre of an awkward scene.   
  
A few minutes later Jean watched as Rogue rose silently from her seat. Her movement didn't turn a single head, all the girls were two rapt by the action on screen. She slipped from the room almost completely unnoticed. Jean was duly impressed and wondered idly if she could manage a similar disappearance . She wasn't too worried about the recent escapee; Logan was bound to find her soon enough. Logan and Rogue, she still wasn't sure what the exact nature of their relationship was. She knew from his rather uncharacteristic behavior over the last couple of years that Logan loved Rogue. She also knew that Rogue loved him in return and always had, but something still seemed off. She was starting to wonder if the two would ever just sit down and talk it out.   
  
Jean glanced at her watch; only half an hour to go till her ritual Friday night visit to the medical lab. Certainly that was a good enough reason to excuse herself for at least fifteen minutes. In a school full of teenagers a doctor's office contains certain items that draw particular interest on the weekend evenings. Jean considered these visitations as one of her most important functions at the institute, she couldn't afford to miss a single one. Especially if what kept her away was a wedding shower from demento land.  
  
  
  
Rogue stood on the second floor balcony and watched the sky. The cool air and bright stars exactly what she needed to clear her head. She couldn't stay in that room with that movie another second. It had been disturbing to say the least. The weird part was after the third couple walked on the screen and started bouncing around she had actually started to become bored, which was even more disturbing. Those were not the images of sex she wanted in her head.  
  
So there she was, on a night she was supposed to spend laughing and drinking with all the other women, standing alone by herself being thoughtful and slightly melancholy. Logan would not be pleased. She wondered just how long it would take him to find her.  
Logan. She reached up and touched the dog tags he had returned to her eight months ago. She may not have him the way she would like to, but he had more than kept his promise to always take care of her. He was her best friend.  
  
The six months he had been away were hard. She actually felt herself drifting through those seven stages of grief she had heard so much about in sociology class back home. Bargaining had been the most difficult to wrap her head around. She wasn't sure what she had to offer. "If Logan comes back and loves me I promise to always be good," didn't seem right. She had never really been bad, except of course perhaps when she had hitchhiked her way through two countries but she figured God wasn't about to settle for "If Logan comes back and loves me I promise to never run again." Obviously if Logan came back and loved her she wouldn't be going anywhere. God was not one to be easily fooled. She never really did come up with something that didn't sound lame.   
  
Anger on the other hand, was quite the phase. She reveled in anger. She skulked around, slammed her books on her desk occasionally and even threw her hairbrush at the wall a couple of times. She suspected that no one guessed the true source of her rage. She wasn't angry that he had left. She was angry that he had made her love him in the first place. The freaking bastard, how dare he? She drew out elaborate fantasies in her mind of hunting him down, slapping him and then yelling in his shocked face "It's your own god damned fault you know!" As far as she was concerned if he didn't want her to love him than he shouldn't have acted the way he did. He played the hero. He risked his own life for hers. He worried about her, tracked her down and convinced her to stay. He showed her physical affection for crying out loud, despite knowing what she could do. Not to mention the fact that she felt him inside her, knowing everything there was to know. Cody had been a young boy, there were no real surprises there and Magneto had been very careful to only let the connection last as long as necessary; he wasn't more than a whisper. But Logan, Logan had hung on, giving her everything he had. She had never felt so close to anyone in her entire life. Of course she had fallen for him! Where exactly did he get the nerve to make her feel the way she did and then turn around and not want her? Men, she fumed, they should all be given a handbook with explicit instructions, "If you don't want a teenage girl to have crush on you then don't go around making her feel special."  
  
Fortunately by the time Logan returned from Canada she had long since moved into acceptance. He would never love her the way she wanted, but he was her friend and he was home.   
  
Their reunion had been so happy and brief she had forgotten about the chain she wore around her neck. They only had time for one hug and a "Hey kid, I missed ya," before he was swept away to the Professor's office. Later that night as she prepared for bed she remembered the tags. She wanted to return them to him, but she suddenly didn't know what to say without looking like a big geek. "Excuse me Logan, man of my dreams whom I worship like a god for saving my life by risking his own, here are the dog tags I have been wearing next to my heart since the day you left." She realized he knew about her crush, she didn't want him to feel weird about it. She decided the best approach was to slip into his room and place the chain on his night stand after he had fallen asleep. Once the task was accomplished without an embarrassing scene he was free to approach her however he wanted, without her clinging to him like some lovesick puppy.  
  
Fortunately for her he approached her the next day. He didn't mention the tags. They ate lunch and discussed what he had found and how she liked the school so far. And so their relationship continued just as it had been, as though he had never left. Eventually they were spending almost all their time together. At some point she noticed he started wearing his leather gloves all the time. She was grateful for the obvious gesture of support, now he could touch her like a friend without always having to think about it. He knew how much she craved affection and made sure she received some regularly. Perhaps he touched her more than a normal friend but theirs was not a normal relationship. He seemed to be on some kind of mission to banish any feeling of isolation she could possibly have. Of course that just made her love him even more. But rather than let her heart ache, she just reminded herself how lucky she was to have him in her life at all.  
  
Then eight months ago the dog tags reappeared on her bedside table.   
  
A week before, they had been eating dinner together when Scott and Jean got up and announced their engagement to the school. Everyone was clapping, Logan was just sitting there with a blank expression on his face and she was watching him in horror. Gently she touched his arm and asked, "Are you okay?"   
  
He swung around to face her with this almost angry look in his eyes, "I'm fine," he growled. He turned back to the couple and remained silent for the rest of the meal. When he got up to leave he patted her head and grunted, "I'll see ya tomorrow kid." Rogue was no idiot; clearly the engagement was a topic not to be discussed. She never brought it up again.  
  
A week later she woke up to find his dog tags sitting there staring her in the face. Knowing it had to mean he had left again, she burst into tears. She didn't understand how he could leave without saying goodbye. Briefly she considered the idea that something had happened over night. He had been killed and that someone left the tags for her not wanting to wake her with the horrible news. But almost instantly she realized that no, if that happened, Jean would be the one to tell her and she would do so immediately, even at three o'clock in the morning. No, clearly he was just gone. Maybe he didn't want to watch her cry. She stayed in bed and sobbed for about an hour.   
  
Eventually she calmed down, reminding herself that last time he had given her the tags as a promise to return. Therefore, jerk or not, he would be back again ... and then she could kill him. Solemnly she put the chain around her neck, washed her face, dressed and prepared to face the world.  
  
She walked into the dining hall looking at her feet, avoiding the eyes of everyone who must be staring at her in sympathy. Only when she got to "their" table did she bother to look up. There he was, sitting and shoving a plate full of freaking eggs into his mouth. After the moment of shock passed she lunged at him. She nearly knocked him off his chair as she wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her head in his stomach. "Oh God Logan, I love you, please don't ever leave again."  
  
He stroked her head and promised, "I love you too kid, I'm not going anywhere."  
  
After recovering emotionally Rogue tried to piece together what the tags meant. She decided the fact they arrived a week after Jean's engagement was obviously significant. After all, it wasn't that long ago that Rogue had been exposed to Logan's feelings for Jean. She had also seen his fantasies. Things like that didn't just go away. But apparently now he had resigned himself to the fact that Jean would never be his. Jean was officially and forever beyond his reach. Perhaps he was trying to solidify the one relationship he did have rather than mourning the one he wished for, but lost. Whatever the case, Rogue knew, though a powerful symbol of his promise to her, the tags didn't really change anything.  
  
So there they were, the woman who couldn't be loved by a man, and the man who had given up on finding love with a woman. At least they had each other and that was not something to be taken for granted. Their relationship may not be the one she wanted but it was special. Besides, she couldn't be with anyone, at least she got to be close to the man she would choose if she could. It also seemed he was more content than he had been in the past. She had experienced his passion for Jean, but Rogue had also felt just how deeply he cared for her. She knew he was happy to have found someone to care about that cared about him and she knew she brought him some level of peace.   
  
Still holding the tags, Rogue shivered slightly. The spring air still had a slight chill in it. Just what was taking him so long to find her anyway?  
  
  
Logan was miserable. Marie had been abducted from him by a pack of freakishly scary gaggling girls. His choices for entertainment for the evening were hanging out with the boys of the school (no thanks), or cards with Scott and Xavier. He had actually given in to the card game for about an hour, but there were only so many of their calm polite "I'll take two pleases" he could take. Especially since he highly suspected they had suggested the game out of pity. Apparently both men were far too keenly aware of what a co-dependent whipped pansy he had become. Overwhelmed with the need to assert his independent manliness he had left the table and announced he had some very important, um, stuff to do. After that he ended up wandering aimlessly. Yep, very independent and manly indeed.  
  
He was wondering through the main second floor hallway when he caught a whiff of Marie's distinctive scent. Thank God. He followed his nose and found the door to the balcony open. She was standing there watching the sky and fingering his dog tags. He stayed back for a moment to breathe her in. He silently congratulated himself on what an act of genius it had been to give her those tags. He thought this at least once a day.  
  
When he awoke that first morning, after his return from Canada, the tags had been waiting for him on his bedside table. He had been a little disappointed, he hadn't been sure why. At lunch she didn't mention it and he decided not to press the issue. He had known she had a crush on him when he left, maybe this was her way of letting him know she was over it. Maybe it was for the best.  
  
But over the next few days he started to realize that their relationship hadn't changed since he left. They still sought each other out. She still confided in him about her feelings regarding her new life and he told her about the things he didn't know about his. He edited out some of the things he did know; she was after all, still only seventeen.  
  
Eventually he was spending almost all his spare time with her. Normally his outlook was pretty dark. Somehow it wasn't so much anymore. Though Marie felt alone, she loved life and he admired that. Oddly enough her influence rubbed off on him. Oh, he wasn't about to sing praises to the sky or the flowers or anything and he was still pretty grumpy, but the gloom was a little less gloomy. She taught him how to play fooze ball of all things and he just thought that was bizarre. He taught her how to play a real man's game, pool. About three weeks later she cleaned up the table with his ass.   
  
As time went by he realized he was lusting after Jean less and less. Okay, so she still was a nice piece of eye candy, but he didn't feel the need to drool anymore. Hitting on her even became less fun until the day came when it didn't even occur to him. Scott was thrilled.  
  
During their first summer at the school together he allowed Marie to teach him how to swim. Well, kind of.   
  
One night after seeing her to her door, he was walking down the hallway when he heard an unusually hesitant voice behind him. "Logan?" He turned. "Do you ever like to go swimming?"  
  
Hands in his pockets, he narrowed his eyes at the odd question and answered honestly, "No."  
  
Her eyes darted to the floor and then back up again. A shy smile, "Okay, I was just wondering. Good night." A wave and she was gone. He stood there frowning at her door for at least a minute before he shook his head and walked away.  
  
A few days later, on one of their walks, he caught the wistful glance she gave the students swimming as they passed the lake. She didn't think he had noticed. He couldn't believe what an idiot he had been. MARIE liked to swim. For a moment he thought if the other kids had refused to ask her along, or worse had actively turned her down, he would have to start pounding some heads. But he realized it was far more likely she had decided not to put them in that position. Swimming would involve exposed skin. Marie had asked him because she trusted the fact that he was the one person who wouldn't be afraid to swim with her. And he, brilliant ass that he was, had turned her down.  
  
The next morning he appeared in her room at seven a.m. in a pair of cut off jeans. When she didn't awake immediately he chucked his towel at her head. With a sleepy moan she pulled the towel off and blinked at him in confusion. "Well come on kid, do you want to go in the lake or not?" The beautiful smile that spread across her face was worth even the humiliation of being caught in shorts.  
  
Of course there was still the humiliation of realizing he didn't actually know how to swim. Caught up in making Marie happy he hadn't thought that part through. In the sixteen years he did remember he had never needed to swim. Apparently his former self had never needed to either.  
  
And that was how he ended up spending an entire summer flailing around in three feet of water, on his back, while Marie stood five feet away and shouted instructions like, "Good, just be still. If you relax you'll float naturally." He restrained himself from commenting that he was rather unnaturally built to sink like a piece of lead. "And remember you're not allowed to drown cause I can't save you!" At this point, as he managed a position distantly related to a float he would find himself idly wondering two things. One, was it possible for him to drown? (How did a mutant healing factor contend with two lungs full of water?) And two, why was it when he would be pummeling anyone else, did he actually like it when Marie spoke to him this way? Splash! "Are you paying attention? I said to try kicking your feet!"  
  
After a half hour of her drill sergeant routine he was allowed to retire to the bank. There he would sit and watch her. Sometimes she would swim laps back and forth in front of him. Sometimes she would do somersaults and perform other tricks. Sometimes she would simply float and watch the clouds go by. With the peaceful quiet, blue sky, green trees and crystal lake with a happy girl floating at the center, it was a perfect moment and he would soak it in. He had chosen the seven a.m. wake up call on purpose. On these mornings she would romp around, skin exposed to the world, normal and free. He didn't want anyone else to put so much as a toe into that water if it would make her uncomfortable.  
  
After a while she would join him. Dripping and slightly tanned she would plop down in front of him on the grass. Her skin was only inches from his, yet she didn't even seem to notice. He loved that he could do this for her.  
  
In July and August they would have time to sit and chat in the sun until their suits dried. Towards the end of the summer she would comment on how it was sad that soon it would be too cold to swim. "But then I guess if it gets cold enough the lake will freeze and we can try skating." He honestly tried to conceal the look of horror on his face at the image of his hulking mass teetering around on skates. "Oh come on, if you really are from Canada you must have played hockey at some point!"  
  
Logan smiled at the memory. Somehow, that entire summer had passed and he hadn't realized what he was feeling. It wasn't until about a year after their first swimming adventure that he realized he was physically restraining himself from touching Marie. When they were having a quiet moment he wanted to hold her hand, or worse, caress her face. What the hell was going on? Once they were having a conversation about college, she was commenting that she was happy she had decided to attend via correspondence. She had just been to the city to write her first set of exams. For the first time in almost two years she had felt alone in the world. She was glad she had decided to stay with her family. She was glad she had decided to stay with him. His hand was in mid air about to stroke her cheek before he even realized it. She saw him coming and instinctually pulled back a bit. He paused, they both smiled awkwardly and then he touched her hair instead.  
  
That night he put a couple cigars in his jacket pocket and went to spend some quality time in the woods. The school, with all its sounds and smells was too distracting. He needed to be somewhere completely alone to figure out just what the hell was happening to him. He found a spot where he could still see the sky through the trees. He lay on the ground, eyes on the stars, hands running through the leaves at his sides and focused his mind on only Marie. Intellectually he knew she was the most important person in his life. She actually made him happy. In his heart he also already knew he loved her. The question had become exactly how did he love her. He conjured up a mental image of her and for the first time since he had met her he just let go, let that picture take him where it would. Good god, he was turned on! Part of his mind instantly reared up screaming that he was dirty and she was innocent and pure and he shouldn't be thinking of her that way. But it didn't feel dirty and he knew if he was really honest with himself Marie was no longer a child. Maybe he had just wanted to keep her a child because then he was safe, but he couldn't lie to himself anymore. She was a beautiful, amazing, desirable woman who loved him and he wanted her. He let the feelings wash over him a bit. It felt so good, it felt free. Then he realized he needed to start thinking about something else or he would have to find a more private spot in the woods. And that frustration was the point really. Now that he has accepted the nature of his feelings he still couldn't do anything about it. Shit. Now what?  
  
"Forget about it and move on. Leave if you have to, just get the hell out," his brain told him. "Can't," both his heart and body replied. God damn it, as much as he realized he should be castrated for such a girly thought, Marie was his light. He wanted to bathe in it.  
  
The next morning Logan put on a pair of leather gloves and he was almost never seen without them again. It wasn't a statement really, it was simply acting on a desire. With the gloves on he could touch Marie whenever the fancy occurred to him. And the fancy occurred to him a lot. He spent the next four months finding all sorts of ways to touch her. He gave in to the urge, even though it seemed terribly sappy, and held her hand. He draped his arm around her shoulders or waist whenever they were walking anywhere. He touched her face, her hair, even patted her knee. Finally, at night when he dropped her off at her door, he took her into his arms, gave her a full body hug and whispered in her ear "I love you kid." At first whenever he tried something new her head always snapped around and she looked at him like he was some sort of alien. He would just shrug and smile at her and after a moment she would relax and melt into it. Soon she even started touching him back. Everything was wonderful.  
  
At least he thought everything was wonderful until the day Jean and Scott announced their engagement. Everyone else was clapping. Logan was just sitting there feeling ... nothing at all. He pondered how he would have reacted two years earlier. He would have been upset. He probably would have had to skulk out of the room and steal the jerk's bike to take a long ride alone ... and maybe drive it into a tree. He wasn't sure what he would have done a year ago. He would have at least felt the need to make some wise ass remark, but even that would have been more out of habit than anything real. But then, there he was, not even a glimmer of jealousy or regret. Marie truly was the only woman he wanted to be with. He was even kind of happy for the pair. He felt himself frown slightly at how odd a thought that was.  
  
Then he heard a voice far more timid than usual asking him, "Are you alright?"  
  
Logan swung around and looked at her in absolute shock. Why the hell was she asking him that? He knew he should be saying something, but the look on of honest concern on her face had him absolutely stupefied, not to mention slightly horrified. Finally, he forced out, "I'm fine," perhaps a little more harshly than he should have. He turned back to face the front of the room and tried to figure out what the hell was going on. He seriously did not like the possibilities he was being faced with. Marie didn't know. Somehow, despite all his puppy dogesque behavior over the last four months this mystery of a woman had failed to grasp his point. The little happy world he had been living in, where everything was wonderful, was brought to its knees. The room was closing in on him. He had to get away from all the noise and the expression on Marie's face that was making him feel sick to his stomach. Overwhelmed by the uncontrollable need to run he rose from his seat. At a loss for what else to do or say, but knowing saying nothing wasn't right either, he patted her head and told her he would see her the next day.   
  
Logan did a lot of pacing that week. He paced in the halls, he paced throughout the grounds and he paced in his room at night. When he was with Marie he felt himself looking at her with this big confused question mark plastered on his face. He couldn't stop himself from starring at her like the crazy person she clearly was, but he knew the last thing she needed was his dumb face calling her insane, so he decided it was best to try to avoid looking at her at all.  
  
Okay, clearly she needed something from him, but what more could he do? In any other situation he would have attempted a seduction long ago, leaving no doubt in her mind exactly what his intentions were, but that route was barred from him. He couldn't even kiss her for crying out loud and he couldn't think of anything else to do beyond what he had been doing that seemed appropriate at this stage.   
  
He needed to come up with some kind of gesture. A statement to show her she was his, or he belonged to her, or whatever. A ring just didn't feel right; nothing else was normal about their relationship, they needed an abnormal gesture.  
  
By the seventh day he was starting to wear a path in the garden. He thought he smelled something vaguely off and stopped, wondering idly if he had remembered to take a shower in the last couple of days in the midst of all his pacing. He scratched his chest. He did feel a little grimy. And then, whamo, it hit him: dog tags!  
  
Next was the issue of delivery. He had managed to pull it off rather smoothly the first time, but this was more important. He really didn't want to end up standing there sputtering, "Hey Marie, here are my dog tags, don't ya want to wear em?" No, that simply would not do.  
  
He slipped into her room that night and watched her sleep. Logan knew he wasn't kidding himself when he thought there had been a time not too long ago that he could have almost any woman he wanted. When he spotted a candidate all he had to do was give her one long hard feral gaze and she was his. Even Jean, despite her constant denials, he knew had been tempted. It was partly her steadfast loyalty and her refusal to give in, in the face of her temptation that had caused him to admire her even more. So how was it that this one girl had reduced him to self-doubt?  
  
His whole being leapt up and screamed the answer. Because you idiot, she is the one girl you actually love. She is the one girl whose life you value more than your own. She is the one girl who, if she said no, might actually cut you open.  
  
Logan heaved a sigh. She was perfect to him, he really didn't want to spoil this moment by fumbling around or saying something stupid. Carefully he placed the chain on her bedside table in exactly the same position he had found it almost two years ago. When she saw it in the morning, she would understand.   
  
The next morning he was a mess. She was over an hour late coming down for breakfast. After forty five minutes he was sure she was going to be the death of him. What if he had been wrong? What if she really had gotten over him when he left the first time? What was he going to do if she was sitting up there embarrassed for him and trying to figure out a way to let him down easy? The questions plaguing him continued to get worse and worse as he animatedly marched back and forth in the back of the dining room while furiously chewing on an unlit cigar. No smoking during meals, of all the dumb ass rules he had ever heard...  
  
Out of nowhere Jean was suddenly standing directly in his path forcing him to come to an abrupt halt. "Logan," in a stern voice, "you are scaring some of the younger students." He looked over. Sure enough there was an entire table of twelve-year-olds staring at him in unabashed terror. He decided he should try to set things right. He winked at them to demonstrate what a friendly guy he was. One of the kids visibly jumped and he heard another gasp. All ten faces immediately swung back to their plates. Jean patted his shoulder, "All right, your adorable. Why don't you sit down before this school experiences a massive de-enrollment." She lead him to his usual table and he sat obediently. "I'll get you something to eat."  
  
Logan didn't think he could feel any worse, but when he looked up, he really did. Scott was sitting across from him, arms folded across his chest and smirking. The two men just stared at each other for a full minute. Logan emanated all the contempt he could muster. Scott smiled his usual golden boy grin. Finally the silence was broken. "So tell me, when the lake freezes in a couple of months, are we going to be treated to this years installment of 'The Wolverine on Ice'?"  
  
Due to his shattered nerves Logan was terribly off his game. The best he could come up with was "I've seen you skating."  
  
"Yeah," a deliberate pause, "but I didn't look like a spaz." Logan was really going to kill him this time.  
  
"Logan, eggs." A plate slammed down in front of him. Jean turned a brilliant smile on Scott. "Darling, I just heard the nicest thing. Some of the boys are going to surprise you by cleaning and organizing all your tools." In less than an instant Scott was up and gone. Logan wasn't sure if he had even seen the boy move that fast in a fight.  
  
Jean triumphantly took the now abandoned seat. Logan stared at her in awe. "Okay, so after all these years we have finally established you are in fact aware the boy is a geek. Why are you marrying him again?"  
  
Jean watched her own finger as she demurely traced a pattern on the table. "I find his geekiness endearing." A knowing smile, "And I assume it is somewhat similar to why you are willing to strap on a pair of skates for Rogue." Logan was stunned to silence. "Concentrate on your eggs and try not to terrorize anyone else. Whatever it is, I am sure it will work out fine."  
  
Logan looked at his egg filled plate. He was tempted to tell her he would have preferred the breakfast sausages he knew were available, but since she had just voluntarily played Scott for his benefit, he didn't want to spoil the specialness of the moment. He demonstrated his acquiescence by picking up his fork and eating a mouthful. Jean smiled and left him to his breakfast.  
  
He looked back down at his plate. He really wasn't hungry. His brain started a diatribe. Eat you eggs, don't think about Marie, just eat your eggs. He bent over and started shoveling. Eggs, eggs, eggs. No, don't think about how your world is falling apart. Eggs, eggs, eggs ... "Oohf!" Something just about knocked him over. Suddenly his arms were full of a trembling Marie. Her head was buried in his stomach.   
  
"Oh God Logan, I love you, please don't ever leave again."  
  
He ran his gloved fingers through her hair and answered, "I love you too kid, I'm not going anywhere." His heart, mind and soul rallied together and cheered one thought, success! It was the best day of his life.  
  
Eight months later there he was savoring her again. He liked watching her from afar now and then, seeing how she fit in the world when he wasn't around, trying to figure out what was going on in her head. For a while he had been thinking perhaps it was time they tried investigating ways to become more physically intimate, but he really did not want to push her. He knew how she felt about taking any risk that might hurt him, or anyone else for that matter. He was hoping when she was comfortable enough, she would let him know. He had spent fifteen years catering to his own desires, he had no more oats to sew, he could wait as long as she needed. Lately though, there had been a troubling little thought tickling the back of his mind that maybe she had written herself off from sex altogether. He wanted her to know it didn't have to be that way, but so far he hadn't found a way to broach the topic.  
  
Suddenly it dawned on him he was supposed to spending a miserable night alone. Something was wrong. He approached her and decided to announce his presence. "Hey kid, aren't you supposed to be acting all girly at some bachelorette party?"  
  
Rogue turned to face her friend and gave a small smile and a shrug. Her slightly sad demeanor was impossible to miss. Logan stepped forward and took her hand. For a moment the two stared at their respectively gloved, entwined fingers, his leather, hers silk. Logan ducked his head to meet her eyes and softly said "I didn't expect to find you out here tonight." There was a question in his statement.  
  
Rogue shook her head slightly and looked back at their hands. "It's nothing. I just needed to get out of there for a minute."  
  
Logan's eyes narrowed. Using his other hand he tipped her chin to bring her eyes back to his own. "Hey, I thought these things were supposed to be fun?"  
  
She gave a wry smile and gestured toward the building as she replied "I think maybe it was getting a little too fun." His two thick eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "They," a breath, "they were watching a dirty movie. I didn't like it."  
  
Rogue felt his hand involuntarily squeeze as Logan's whole body tensed. He straightened his stance and turned a feral gaze toward the offending window. He thought he could still see the light of the flickering TV. "Is there anyone in particular I should be giving a talking to, or is it the whole group of thoughtless bitches?" When she didn't answer immediately he dropped her hand and took a step towards the door.   
  
"Wait. Logan no! Don't be silly." He stopped and waited for an explanation. "It's a party. They are just doing what girls do." A pause and she added slightly under her breath, "Though I did used to think it's what boys do."   
  
Logan looked back to the window and worried his jaw. "They should have thought…"  
  
A little desperately, "I'm not mad at them. I like that they didn't think. I like that they just act normally around me and don't worry about how I'm going to react to everything. If they tiptoed around me all the time, and edited everything they talked about and did for my benefit; that would be the nightmare." She stopped to take his hand back into her own. "It took a long time for everyone to be comfortable around me. Don't you dare go showing off how tough you are and set me back again."   
  
Logan sighed, "Still, to show you something you can't have…"  
  
"That's not exactly why I'm upset." A slight blush crept into her cheeks as he eyed her curiously. "I mean I read romance novels for crying out loud. The trashy ones!"  
  
"I think I've seen those in your room. With the nearly naked people on the cover?"  
  
Ignoring him Rogue continued, "I like getting to experience the things I don't have through them, it makes me feel good. But that movie…" she paused, trying to find the words to explain. " It was just awful. I'm not convinced those people even like each other, let alone feel passionate about it. I have always thought about it as this romantic ideal. That video just shat on every fantasy I have ever had. It took my dream and turned it into something small and callous. Something cold and ugly that is carelessly brandished about like it was nothing."  
  
When she finally stopped Logan asked the only thing he could think of, "If you can't have it, wouldn't you rather think of it as nothing?"  
  
In a small voice, "No. I want it to be beautiful. It is forbidden to me now, but I hope it won't always be. And if that happens I want something wonderful to look forward to."  
  
She felt smooth leather caress her cheek. She leaned into the contact and looked up to see his eyes gazing at her tenderly. "You know you are not alone in this. You know you never will be as long as I'm around?" He pulled her into a deep hug and stroked her hair. "I love you kid."  
  
"I know," she whispered back. He told her every night. Just once she wished he would say, "I love you Marie."  
  
Continuing the embrace he muttered, "We are going to have to figure something out."  
  
Suddenly Rogue was overcome by the need to lighten the mood. The last thing she wanted right now was another sad "We need to find a way to fix Rogue" conversation. Smiling into his chest she said mischievously "It is kinda weird actually. Thanks to you I am pretty sure I already know what it feels like as a man. I just don't know what it feels like as a woman."  
  
Logan pulled back slightly and frowned down at her. "So you're telling me I corrupted you when you were seventeen even though I was trying so damn hard not to?"  
  
Rogue gave a full fledge grin, "It was kind of inevitable don't ya think?" Logan's frown turned into a serious look of concentration. He was thinking and thinking hard. She could actually see the idea came alive in his head. When his eyes came back into focus there was a bit of excitement there. Somehow she just knew it wasn't going to be good. "What?" she demanded.  
  
"Come on," he grinned as he started pulling her towards the door. "I have an idea."  
  
  
  
  
  
Two figures entered the medical room. The first immediately began opening cupboards and drawers, searching. The second hovered by the doorway, clearly uncomfortable with the invasion.   
  
"Logan, what are we doing here?" Rogue hissed. In typical Logan style the man hadn't said a word since he dragged her from the balcony. At first she had been intrigued by his silent determined attitude. Clearly he was on a mission of some kind. A mission involving her no less, but now she didn't feel right poking around in Jean's things. Certainly a doctor's lab was not just open to anyone to rummage through.  
  
Logan paused for a moment and cleared his throat. Keeping his eyes glued on the drawer he finally replied, "We are looking for surgical gloves."  
  
"Surgical gloves?" the girl squeaked. Why on earth did he, no they, need surgical gloves? Oh dear lord, she just thought of a reason. "Logan, what are you thinking?" It was more of a demand than a question. There was no response, he just kept his eyes down and continued rummaging. He opened and slammed a few more doors. Okay, if he was this uncomfortable with his own idea it had to be bad. "Just stop what you are doing and tell me exactly what you have in mind," she was verging on exasperation. Finally the man stopped. He heaved a full body sigh of preparation and met her gaze. Losing his nerve again his eyes started to travel around the room. "Logan?"  
  
"All right." A pause. "I was thinking you have given up too easily. That really there are a lot of ways that you can be intimate with another person." He stopped to watch for a reaction. She was just staring at him with huge eyes and an open mouth. Logan plunged ahead, "Basically as long as one person keeps their clothes on then it's safe to, ah, explore the other naked person. I was thinking it was time that we started to, ah, explore those possibilities."  
  
A moment passed while they both just stared at each other. Rogue was clearly in shock. All she could think of to say was "What are the gloves for? We already have gloves." There was an unmistakable note of worry in her voice.  
  
Now Logan resorted to a cough to gather himself. "For, ah, exploring, ah, more," cough, cough, "intimate areas." Logan was clearly in pain at having to say these things out loud. He had been hoping she would just read his mind. Then after a silent understanding had been reached they could go back to his room and get to the good stuff. The look on her face though was telling him otherwise.   
  
Rogue stood absolutely still, her mouth opening and closing fish-like but no sound would come out. Good Lord, her best friend was proposing sex. Correction, her best friend was proposing some weird surgical glove wearing sex. Why wasn't the floor just swallowing her up? That would be the humane thing to do. She loved Logan and the idea of getting to touch him, even with gloves, was a dream, but she had long ago accepted that fact that his love for her was not of the same nature. He had always taken care of her, been there for her when no one else was. Whenever she had a problem he would listen, support and then try to fix it if he could. She had known their discussion on the balcony was crossing a line but she hadn't imagined this fiasco. God help them, he was trying to take care of her again. Oh it was worse than she had thought, he was proposing pity weird surgical glove wearing sex.   
  
And then the door opened. Rogue launched at least a foot into the air and skittered into the middle of the room.  
  
"Normally when I find someone poking around in my lab this time on a Friday night it is one of the boys looking for condoms." Jean stood in the door with a curious grin on her face. "What can I do for the two of you?"  
  
Logan momentarily thought of coming up with a lie, but the direct approach always served him in the past. Besides, Jean wouldn't be the type to pry. Quick, direct and to the point and then he could get Marie out of there and calm her down. "We are looking for surgical gloves."  
  
Jean's brows lifted even higher, "Surgical gloves?" Okay, so maybe she was the type to pry, when she didn't realize it was a non-prying type situation. She looked to Rogue for a sensible explanation.  
  
The girl just pointed at Logan and blurted, "It was his idea. I, I have to go," and like a wind she was past Jean and out the door.  
  
Jean turned to Logan who was now cursing under his breath. "Can I ask what is going on?"  
  
"I'd rather you didn't," the statement didn't allow for any further questions.  
  
Jean's face softened as understanding suddenly dawned on her. She walked to a drawer on the other side of the room and produced a box. "Here, take the whole thing and then you won't have to come back next time." Logan met her eyes, gave a grateful smile and muttered his thanks. As he started to walk away Jean said "Warm water."  
  
He turned back. "What?"  
  
"After you put them on, put your hands in warm water, it might make it feel a little more natural, rather than being cold." He nodded and started to walk away again. Jean felt she had to say something. Considering Rogue's reaction when she walked in, the man needed a clue. "Normally when I do give the boys the latex I also give them a nice little chat."  
  
"I don't think I need your chat Jean." His patience was wearing; he just wanted to find Marie.  
  
"Are you sure she knows how you feel about her?"  
  
His eyes narrowed, "Marie knows she's my girl." Okay, Jean really was the prying type and she had seriously chosen the wrong time to be that type.  
  
"Logan I don't need to be a telepath to see that she doesn't understand that your feelings may have changed somewhere along the way. She knows you care about her Logan; I don't think she knows how you care about her. Just talk to her first."  
  
"I HAVE told her I love her."  
  
Jean was trying to be as gentle with the man as possible. It was obvious his head was about to explode but these were things he needed to hear, desperately. "How did you say it?"   
  
Just who the hell did she think she was? "I said 'I love you kid.'"   
  
Of course he did. Jean had to concentrate hard on not smiling. "Yeah, try it again and this time leave off the 'kid'."  
  
"I have called her kid since we first met." He was beyond agitated now, who knows how far Marie had gotten. "It's my pet name for her."  
  
Jean sighed. Clearly Logan, who could be so smooth and make his intentions unmistakably known when it was a matter of lust, was an idiot when it came understanding a woman while in a real relationship. "Exactly, Logan, she thinks you still consider yourself her big brother." What she wanted to do was smack him upside the head and yell, "This is the best thing that has happened to you and you are screwing it up you blind blockhead."   
  
Logan thought for a minute. Okay, so he had never sat Marie down and said, "You are a woman now, I want to be with you, you know, like a man." That just seemed patronizing and it had seemed she understood. With all the work he had done over the last year finding ways to express his affection how did she not know? But if Jean thought a talk was in order she was probably right. Women, he had learned, had a strange way of reading each other, but he didn't need to be smacked upside the head with it. "Okay, I'll talk to her." Logan again turned to leave.  
  
"And Logan," Jean called after him, "congratulations." .  
  
He turned a final time and gave a relieved smile. He paused and toyed with the box a bit before responding, "Thanks Jean, congratulations to you to."  
  
  
  
Rogue was hiding under the quilt on her bed. When she had fled the medical room her intention had been to get the hell out of the building and run as far as she could. As soon as she reached the driveway her common sense had somehow miraculously returned. If she ran Logan would just find her anyway. He had a habit of doing that. Usually she secretly liked it. No matter where she went, Logan would always find her. It felt safe knowing even when she freaked out it was impossible to harm their relationship. With anyone else it might feel smothering. Maybe she just liked being smothered by Logan.   
  
This time though, a confrontation in the woods would just be too freakishly awkward. She could just imagine "Yes, well, you proposed pity weird surgical glove wearing sex and I felt the need to run to the woods and hide from you as a demonstration of what an adult I truly am." Yes, definitely, making him track her down would only lead to an even bigger talk than they were already doomed to have. Better to let him find her in her room. Then it could be a brief "I think this is a bad idea" chat as opposed to a "this is so hideous a suggestion it drove me to the woods" chat. Still though, adult or not, she could not imagine looking at him, hence the quilt.  
  
She knew that Logan loved her. Problem was she knew exactly how he loved her. She had felt his feelings for her and exactly where she fit in with other women. She was a child and he wanted to protect her. He wanted to take care of her as though he were her big brother. He fantasized about sex with Jean.   
  
Oh god, it was even worse than she thought. It was incestuous pity weird surgical glove wearing sex. "Poor little Marie doomed to never know the love of a man. Hate to see her so sad. I have helped her with all her other problems, might as well help her with this one too." Then to make it truly unbearable the woman he really wants walked right into the middle of the whole embarrassing scene. Ugh, it was bad enough just having the suggestion put out there, how did he not know going through with it would make their relationship forever awkward?   
  
She heard the door open. She heard him take a step inside, but he stopped and the door didn't close. She could picture him standing there fiddling with the door handle like it was some fascinating object. Well that was just fine, she wasn't ready to come out from under the quilt and face the incestuous pity weird surgical glove wearing sex martyr anyway.   
  
"Marie?" She didn't move. She didn't even make a sound. She heard him sigh and close the door. Curiosity overwhelming her she risked a peek with one eye. He stood still for a moment, staring at, oh lord, the box of gloves, which he had apparently felt the need to bring with him. Finally he moved and placed the box on her dresser. Still not looking in her direction he pulled her desk chair over to the bed and sat down with a slight huff. For a minute he just sat there, looking at his hands clasped in front of him, the pictures on her walls, the ceiling. Then with another sigh he leaned forward, put his elbows on his knees and looked directly at her. His two sad gentle eyes meeting her one terrified one. "Jean suggested we need to talk." Her one eye blinked at him. He nodded at the quilt and added, "I'm thinking she might be right."   
  
"So, talk."  
  
Logan sat back in his chair and waved his arms at the quilt. "Oh come on Marie, this is an important conversation, I'm not having it with a pink checkered blob."   
  
Rogue shoved the quilt aside and sat up cross-legged. She was a little pink from the heat of the quilt and her hair was all fuzzy and sticking up funny. She was beautiful. "So, talk."  
  
He cleared his throat. "I think we may be having some sort of communication problem."  
  
"I don't see a problem. You suggested sex, I ran screaming; I think we both made our points perfectly clear."  
  
"You are being defensive."  
  
"You're waving latex in my face!" With that she flopped back down onto the bed. She started picking absently at the quilt. "Why are you doing this to me Logan? You're supposed to be my friend."  
  
"I'm more than your friend Marie." Logan decided to take a more direct approach. "How do you think I feel about you?"  
  
She didn't look at him, "I know you care about me. I know you want to take care of me, protect me, make sure I'm happy."  
  
She was ignoring the most important part. She really didn't know. Logan kneeled on the floor in front of her. With his gloved hand he stroked her forehead, "I love you Marie. I haven't thought of you as just my friend in a long time." His body still on the floor, he rested his head on the pillow next to hers.  
  
He didn't need to tell her he loved her, she had felt his feelings first hand. Almost a whisper, "I know we are more than just friends Logan, but this," she gestured vaguely toward the box on her dresser, "this isn't us either."  
  
In earnest now, "Why isn't it us? It should be us." When she didn't answer he tried again. "I am doing this wrong. I should have talked to you first, but when an idea pops into my head," a slight smile, "I don't think, I just do." His thumb continued the caress as he murmured, "I know this idea sounds strange. Maybe it isn't the real thing, but at least it's something. I think we should have something."   
  
Rogue was barely holding back tears now. "Maybe if I can't have the real thing, I don't want anything at all." Rogue hoped he wouldn't miss the double meaning. She hoped they could just agree to forget this night. The kind of love he was offering was not what she wanted. She did not want to be a consolation prize.   
  
Her eyes were so sad it was breaking his heart. For a year he had understood how he loved her. For a year he had believed she understood as well and all this time she really didn't know. How could he fix that? Logan was at a loss. How can he make her believe him when he can't show her? At the very least it was going to take longer than one night. He realized it was going to be like starting from scratch, beginning with regaining her trust. "We are going to work this out. I don't know what else to do tonight, but I promise you we are going to work this out." Raising himself onto the bed he drew her into a hug. "I do love you Marie, I am going to find a way to make you believe that." Pulling back he looked into her eyes. They revealed nothing to him. With a sigh he got off the bed and headed to the door, there was nothing else he could do right then. "I'll see you tomorrow," and he left her.  
  
Finally the silent tears started to fall. She didn't even have the energy for a sob. She desperately wanted to believe him, but with everything she had seen she couldn't and she wasn't going to let him lie to her, or to himself.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Imbroglio

Title: Reasonable Doubts 2/5 - Imbroglio  
Author: Gowdie  
Category: Logan and Rogue romance. Just enough angst to get the story moving, a lot of laughter and eventually a happy ending. Hopefully like life!  
Rating: PG13 for language and graphic fish death.  
Archive: Please dear God, please let someone want this. Just please also let them send me a message so I can write a thank you note and visit.  
Disclaimer: Unless extreme amounts of giddiness and laughter have recently been declared material gains, then no I am not profiting from this story since I clearly do not own these characters.  
Feedback: Yes please! I promise to say thank you!   
  
Thanks: To Kim and Diebin for both offering support and encouragement the second I mentioned the words "writing a story". To my real life friend Narla for listening to me ramble on and on about Logan and Rogue even though she doesn't get the pairing, proofing this story and most of all helping me hide the evidence of my latest addiction from my disapproving roommate. Now that is what real friends are for.  
  
Author Notes: I am sorry this is so late, but weird stuff kept happening. Like Rogue, instead of just going where she was supposed to, kept having emotional moments along the way. And she had this bizarre story about fishing to tell. Then Scott, of all people, show up yesterday and started whispering about how fun a second scene with Logan would be. In the end, I actually have grown to love this part, when I started out hating it, so I think it was worth the wait.  
Jell-O cake: white cake, poke holes with skewer, poor cherry jell-o down the holes, ice with whip cream. "The movie based on the book by that Canadian guy": Never Cry Wolf by Farley Mowat  
  
Note to PETS: See see see! Isn't Scott so much more realized and responsibly used in this part?  
  
  
  
  
  
Jean Grey was taking in a morning jog. She was still trying to clear her head from the previous nights events and a long hard run by the lake, in the cool spring air seemed like the best remedy.   
  
After she had returned to the party, things had become even more bizarre. The second she walked in the door she was tackled and blindfolded. She had actually panicked, fearing the worst; the crazed teens wouldn't actually dare to bring a striper to the institute, would they? She was about to reach out with her mind searching for the scantily clad male presence when she found herself being spun around in dizzying circles. Then a piece of cardboard was thrust in her hand and she was dared to "pin the tail on the donkey." However when she was finally allowed to remove the blindfold the picture staring back at her was not something she would ever dream of describing as a "donkey" and the object she had pinned to the bulging pectoral was certainly not a "tail". After that, the rest of the night descended into a blurry haze of new linens, teacups, crotchless underwear and an incident involving a pink Jell-O cake.  
  
When she finally came within sight of the lake Jean stopped short. Sitting on the grass covered bank was Rogue, alone. It was barely seven o'clock. Rogue was the last person she had expected to see on this particular morning. Jean wouldn't have been at all surprised if no one had heard from Logan or Rogue all day. She had assumed the couple would stay holed up in Logan's room, possibly emerging briefly at some point only long enough to gather provisions. It was still cold outside for crying out loud. Shouldn't the girl be snuggled under a down comforter, head nestled against a hairy chest with strong arms and legs wrapped around her, keeping her safe and warm, protected from the rest of the world?   
  
Jean grinned at the obvious direction her thoughts were headed. Every woman was allowed the occasional fantasy, even those who were deeply in love with their ideal mate. At the same time, Rogue certainly was a very lucky girl. Or at least she should be a very lucky girl. The fact she was sitting alone was causing Jean to have serious doubts about exactly how lucky the girl had been the night before. Okay, clearly a delicate girl to girl chat was in order. She approached softly, "Rogue?"  
  
Startled out of her contemplation Rogue jumped to her feet and faced the older woman. Jean again, just the person she wanted to see. Rogue loved Jean, but at this particular juncture in her life she really didn't understand why she had to be repeatedly bombarded with her presence. It almost seemed like the fates felt the need to constantly remind her of who she could never be. Trying to sound as neutral as possible she offered, "Hi. I'm sorry for leaving your party last night."  
  
Jean gave a conspiratorial smile, "Trust me, that is okay. I was looking for an escape route myself. It got a little ... strange after a while."  
  
Rogue blushed. "And I'm sorry for after. We had no right to be in there."  
  
Jean touched the girl's arm, "Hey, as far as I am concerned the two of you have nothing to apologize for." Opportunity available, she decided to take the plunge. "I am a little surprised to find you out here this morning ... alone."  
  
  
Rogue was still clinging to the hope that the exact nature of Logan's plan had somehow crept by the Doctor's notice. "Oh. I wanted to be by myself and I don't know where it came from, but I kinda felt this need inside to commune with the woods. So here I am, communing."  
  
Jean pressed on. "I understand. Sometimes I feel the need to take a step back to regain perspective. See how I feel in the world, after ... some ... kind ... of big ... change."   
  
Rogue's face scrunched up. Oh God, here we go again, she thought. "Change?" she squeaked.  
  
The pained expression on Rogue's face revealed everything. After all this time the pair still hadn't reached an understanding. Concern flooding her voice, "Rogue, did Logan talk to you after you left my lab last night?"  
  
Rogue turned to face the lake. "Oh we talked." Trying to dismiss the conversation, "He can get some pretty crazy ideas, you know?"   
  
"I know." Focusing all of her attention on the younger woman in front of her, "Rogue, it might not be my place to say anything, but Logan..." She never had a chance to finish the sentence. Something hard and sharp struck her from behind and knocked her to the ground. The last thing she heard was Rogue's gasp.   
  
Rogue turned to find her friend lying on the ground. Still standing on the unconscious woman's back was, of all the unexpected things, a rather large wolf. Her mind was screaming, but wolves aren't supposed to really attack people. I saw that movie, based on the book by that Canadian guy, god damn it! The wolf apparently had other ideas. She watched in horror as the animal started to pace in a circle around her. She slowly knelt to check Jean. Still alive. The grey frightening mass of fur and muscle, bared its teeth. A deep growl came from inside and then it barked. It lowered itself down on its hind legs, making its intentions known. It was going to attack. She had no where to go. No defenses to use. There was no guarantee she could reach the creatures skin before its claws and teeth made contact with her own flesh. She ripped off her gloves, she had no choice. Repeating to herself, "Just enough, I will only take enough," she touched Jean's face. She felt the pull flood her body and mind. The wolf seemed to wait a moment and then finally lunged. Rogue pointed her hand in the direction of the animal and together her mind and soul commanded "Stop."  
  
The wolf froze mid-flight. Rogue stood and she and the animal regarded each other, neither seeming to know what to do next. Then the wolf cocked its head to the side and almost smiled. The girl could do nothing but watch as the creature slowly started to change form, slithering down until it stood on two legs; a blue woman with red hair and yellow eyes. Mystique approached her and Rogue instinctively backed away, leaving the side of her friend. She continued taking steps toward the trees, stumbling, as she watched the shape shifter bend and touch Jean's neck. The blue woman turned to look her directly in the eye, a smile dancing on her face. "How interesting," the monster purred, "she's dead."   
  
Rogue ran.  
  
  
Logan had spent another night in the woods. He had gone to a particularly dense part of the estate, on the opposite side of the mansion from the lake. He wanted to make sure he didn't run into anyone. Once again he spread himself on the ground and watched the stars, looking for answers. Though this time he had the sneaking suspicion the stars were mocking him. They stared back down at him and taunted, "Back again? Just how many nights do you have to spend out here till you get it right? We're just stars you know. There is only so much contemplation we can offer."  
  
Holy shit, he had screwed up. He had actually walked around for a year, believing he had an established romantic relationship with Marie and she had no idea. She thought he loved her as what? A sister? A sister!   
  
He rolled to his stomach, face down in the dirt and groaned. Okay, clearly the kid had lost her mind at some point, but hell, that was probably his fault to somehow. How was he going to fix this? Back to square one apparently. How to start? Asking her to dinner seemed like a good idea. Away from the institute for a change. Some place romantic, with candles for sure. Maybe a guy on a violin if he could find one. Though how he would survive the weirdness of a guy on a violin standing over them for longer than thirty seconds he didn't know.   
  
There was still the problem of when. He was deeply worried if he waited too long Marie would only use the time to certify and cement her own ideas. At the same time if he approached her right away she might be defensive. She might not want to talk to him at all. He was torn between giving her a little space to regroup and completely suffocating her with affection. He had no idea which was the best route. He was going to have to ask someone; someone with experience dealing with a complicated woman. He was painfully starting to realize who that someone was going to have to be and all he could think was Scooter was going to laugh his ass off at the idea of the Wolverine coming to him for dating advice. Not in a hundred million years was he ever going to live this down.  
  
It was then that he received the call inside his head from Charles. "By the lake. Something is wrong. Jean and Rogue."  
  
Logan ran. He wasn't even conscious of the branches he swatted out of his way. His mind was simply repeating, not now, please God, not now.   
  
When he finally reached the clearing he almost tripped as he took in the scene before him. Scott was already there, standing over Jean, who was almost grey, lifeless. His insides clenched as he watched the younger man slightly shaking his head, a single silent word repeating on his lips, "No." Finally Scott knelt beside his fiancé, placing his hand on her cheek. At first barely a whisper, "She's alive." Then almost an elated shout, "She's alive!"   
  
The leader picked the woman up and held her securely against his chest. The two men looked at each other, each almost asking for permission, and came to a silent agreement. Scott would take his love back to the safety of the mansion. Logan would find Marie.   
By the time Scott started walking, Logan was already following Marie's scent back into the trees. At first her path didn't make sense, winding back and forth erratically, clearly demonstrating her panicked state of mind. Then all of a sudden Logan realized he was following a straight path with an obvious destination. He started to feel helpless; if she made it he wouldn't be able to track her. Sure enough, when he reached the road, her scent completely disappeared. There was nothing he could do but go back.  
  
When Logan returned to the mansion he found Scott just exiting the medical lab. He looked upset, but not devastated. Logan took that as a good sign. Before he could even open his mouth to ask about Jean, Scott was already addressing him. "I was coming up to help you. You didn't find Rogue?"  
  
Logan shook his head. "I lost her scent by the road. She must have caught a ride."  
Scott's brow creased, "Do you really think she would hitch a ride with just anyone?"  
  
If he wasn't so worried Logan would have smiled at that. He answered wryly, "It's kind of how we met." Scott let out the tiniest huff of air that might have been a chuckle and shook his head. "You were coming out to ask about Rogue. Does that mean Jean is going to be okay?"  
  
"Jean is going to be fine. She is still unconscious but she should be okay. Storm is watching over her while the Professor goes through some files." Scott leaned his back against the wall, took a deep breath and let out some the tension he had been holding in. "It seems she hit her head. There might be a slight concussion, but it is not too serious. The weird part is there is bruising and scratches on her back. It looks almost like an animal attack of some kind." He paused. He really wasn't sure how to brooch the next part with Logan. "And there is something else." He took a breath, "From just the bump on her head, she should have woken up by now. On a hunch we went through some of Jean's old data ... on you." Another pause. Finally he looked Logan in the eye. "The thing is, it looks almost like Rogue."   
  
Scott just waited while the other man processed this information. Logan felt himself staring at the door of the med lab as he tried to put the pieces together. "If there was an animal, Marie would have needed a way to defend herself."  
  
Scott nodded. "I understand. It was the right decision, but that doesn't explain why she ran to the road instead of back to us."  
  
Logan chewed on the inside of his mouth, mind racing. "She was upset already and she really doesn't like to hurt anybody, let alone Chuck's favorite." And then realization dawned. He looked Scott directly in the eye. "When you first saw Jean, you thought she was dead."   
  
Scott couldn't breathe, nausea burning up inside him at the awfulness of what Logan was suggesting. Barely a whisper, "Oh my God."  
  
Logan felt a growl building up inside him, "I need to find her ... now."  
  
"I'll come with you."  
  
Logan started sucking in air erratically as his hand animatedly hovered in front of him, attempting to point at Scott, "No, you stay with Jean." Scott opened his mouth to argue but was cut off. "If there is some sort of animal around here, you and Storm should stay here anyway." A pause and an admission, "This is kind of my mess. I need to bring her back."  
  
"He is right, considering all the circumstances, we need you here, Scott." Both men swung around, startled to find Professor Xavier had silently approached them. With wise, sympathetic eyes on Logan, "Rogue has proven herself to be a very resourceful girl in the past, I am sure she will be fine until you get to her. I will attempt to track her with Cerebro and I am sure the two of you will be home in no time."  
  
Scott pulled himself up to his full height, stood directly in front of the larger man and pointed a finger in his chest. "You check in. If you get into any trouble, if something even smells suspicious you contact us first. I can be there in no time in the jet and I will back you. Do not play the hero and go in somewhere you shouldn't alone."  
  
Logan raised an eyebrow and drawled, "Are you done Dad?"  
  
Scott thought for a moment. Adamantly, "You check in!"  
  
  
  
Rogue was trying not to panic.   
  
Her instincts had told her to run and run she had. If she had been thinking, she wouldn't have believed her luck when a truck happened by almost the second after she had reached the road. As it was she just blindly started hopping up and down waving her arms frantically until it stopped and climbed in and stuttered "North?" The man nodded, she buckled in and off they went. They had sat in an odd silence for the first few minutes. Rogue could feel the burly, flannel and jeans clad driver glancing at her, expecting her to say something, anything, but her brain had completely shut down and she certainly wasn't capable of small talk.   
  
Finally the man had broke, removed the cigar from his mouth and asked, "Look kid, are you in some kinda trouble?" At that she started to cry, huge gasping sobs that shook her whole body. And so they continued to drive, Rogue doubled over and bawling into her knees, and the driver uncomfortably shifting in his seat, chewing on his cigar and tightly gripping the wheel. After about an hour he pulled over at a rest stop. Rogue had started pulling herself together and just stared straight ahead at the tiny parking lot, remembering to breathe. He turned in his seat to face her. "I'm real sorry kid, but this town is where I drop off my load and then turn south again." He watched her for a moment. "Do you need me to call anybody? Your parents? Maybe the police?"  
  
Rogue couldn't keep in a small snort at that comment. She shook her head and turned to face him for the first time. She gave her very best reassuring smile and said, "No, it's ... it's nothing like that. I'm sorry for acting so strange, I just needed to get away." She unbuckled herself and opened the door. As she hopped down she added, "Thanks for the ride."  
  
Before she could close the door the man leaned across the seat and held it open. "Hey kid, you gonna be alright?" Breathe, just breathe. He's fifty years old and has way to big a beer belly to remind you of anyone important. "I feel kinda weird just leaving you here like this."  
  
"I'll be fine." She forced a huge grin and added in as worldly a tone as she could muster, "This isn't exactly my first time on the road." The man looked a little relieved, nodded, closed the door and finally drove off leaving a cloud of dust and gravel in his wake.  
  
Rogue sighed and hauled herself over to the picnic table to wait for her next ride. She didn't have to wait long. A little blue hatchback pulled up. Rogue watched as a forty-something woman with blonde shoulder length hair, dressed in weekend wear and not possessing a single characteristic that would cause any painful memory associations, emerged and headed to the back of the building where the washrooms were located. It seemed like forever until she reappeared. Rogue had just worked up some courage when the woman suddenly turned and went in the little store. Damn it. She watched anxiously through the glass as the intended target took forever picking out some snacks. Finally the bell on the door jangled and the blonde was headed back to her car. Rogue sat up straight and looked at the woman directly until she caught her eye. Eye contact achieved, Rogue was about to jump from her perch on the table but instead ended up staring open mouthed as the woman approached her instead. A beautifully warm smile, "Hey hon, I'm Nancy, you need a ride?"  
  
Rogue had eagerly accepted of course and that was how she ended up sitting in a comfortable car, listening to easy rock and having some time to stop and think. That was when the panic started to set in. She was overwhelmed with the realization she had no idea what she had gotten herself into. She had run with nothing. No cash, no i.d. and no clothes except the jeans, t-shirt and windbreaker she was wearing. She was a freaking idiot. The last time she had at least had a route in mind, not to mention a bag and some money. Okay, so she had completely run out of cash and was practically starving by the time Logan found her, but at least she had started out right.  
  
Logan. By now he would know. By now he was hating her. No, she could give him more credit than that, for the moment he was probably torn. But soon, very soon, bitterness at what she had taken would set in and he would never forgive her. It was weird, she could hear Jean's voice in her head, telling her to go back, that Scott, the Professor, even Logan would understand, but Rogue knew better. Since the moment she had touched her, Rogue had been focusing at least half her energy shutting out everything that was Jean. The last thing she wanted was a dead woman's thoughts haunting her, especially when said dead woman was telling her such sweet lies. She could never see Logan, or Scott or the Professor ever again, that was the end of it.  
  
Hey, her practical side rallied, stop wasting time thinking about that. We are busy concentrating on what a moron you are. Right. Moron. No cash, no i.d., no breakfast for Christ's sake. Well, too late for regrets. She couldn't very well go back and say, "Um, don't mind me. Just came back to get a few things and then let's try this again." She was just going to have to deal.  
  
Suddenly Nancy's voice intruded on her thoughts. "Hey hon, where are you headed anyway?"  
  
Rogue thought for a moment. "Well, I was planning on crossing into Canada, but I've just kind of realized I forgot my i.d.. I don't know how I'm going to get across the boarder."  
  
"You just stick with me." Nancy gave her another beautiful smile. "I'm going up to my cottage in the Ottawa valley. With this car packed with only outdoor clothes and a cooler we don't look too threatening. I go across all the time. If you look like a family they don't pay too much attention to you. If they ask, you're my daughter, they probably won't even ask for your name, let alone any identification."   
  
"Are you sure? I really don't want to get you in any trouble."  
  
"Trouble?" Nancy chuckled. "Trust me, we will be crossing in the middle of a Saturday. The only time they would hassle a couple of nice mother/daughter looking women like us is when they are bored out of their skulls at five in the morning." Rogue relaxed a little. "You hungry? I picked up some food back there. It's in the bag I put in the back seat." Rogue hoped her face didn't show the slight joy she felt at the mention of food but it must have, cause Nancy took one look at her and laughed again. "Go on, I can see you are practically starving."   
  
Rogue found the bag and sorted through the contents. She asked Nancy if she wanted anything but she merely shook her head and said she was fine for the moment. Rogue immediately started sucking back the apple juice drink box she found. It felt really good, she hadn't even noticed with everything else going on in her head, but she was seriously dehydrated. Next she unwrapped and devoured the sandwich. Chicken salad, she thought, a serious step up from beef jerky. No, her brain chastised again, no Logan, just eat.   
  
By the time she finished she was relaxed to the point she was starting to feel dozy. She shifted and slumped down in her seat. Nancy must have noticed her drooping eyelids because she said, "Oh Sweetie, you just nap if you want to. You look like you could use a break. I'll wake you when we get to the boarder." Rogue felt herself smile and mutter a thanks just before she drifted off.  
  
  
  
Logan had just finished packing the jeep when he heard the completely unexpected offer behind him. "You can take the bike. It's a lot faster ... as you well know."  
  
Logan took a moment to eye Scott and then slammed the back door. "Thanks, but I think this will be easier to throw her into and strap her down." A mutter as he fidgeted with his gloves, "And then give her a good talking to on the ride back."  
  
Scott frowned a little at the last comment but decided to ignore it. "You've got a line on Rogue?"  
  
Logan started patting his pockets looking for a cigar. "Yeah, the Professor located her headed toward the border with some housewife. She looks safe for the moment."  
  
"North again?"  
  
A small huff. "Old habits really do die hard I guess." Cigar located he put it in his mouth and began the search for his lighter. "When I run I go north. When Marie ran before she went north. Put the two of us together in one head, what other direction are you going to come up with?" He looked back at the other man, he couldn't believe how calm he was. "Jeanie is really going to be okay?"  
  
Scott smiled a little and nodded. "She is going to be fine. She is still unconscious. We just have to wait for her to gain her own energy back on her own time, but she is going to be perfectly fine. Please make sure to tell Rogue that," a pause, "and that I understand."  
  
Logan gave up on the lighter and sighed. "Oh I'm thinking the first words out of my mouth are going to be 'Jean's alive!' followed quickly by, 'and no one is mad at you.'" He rubbed his face with his hands. "Then I get to start my very own chant of 'I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.'"  
  
Scott frowned, confused. "I have no response to that."  
  
Logan snorted. "Oh I know how you feel."  
  
Scott looked at his feet, unsure if he should ask the next question, but it did seem Logan was providing an unprecedented opening. Maybe he really did want to talk ... to him. "Logan, what, what did you mean when you said this was your mess?"  
  
This was going to be painful, but it was what he had been fishing for. He leaned forward and looked directly at Scott. "Marie ... doesn't ... know."  
  
In earnest, "Doesn't know what?"  
  
Oh come on, was the weenie actually going to make this hard? Logan huffed as his eyes shifted around the room. "She doesn't know," a very painful moment of silence, "that I love her."  
  
Scott's mouth fell open; he couldn't help it. He started stuttering in disbelief, "How can she not know? I know. I'm a guy, we never know. Jean didn't even have to tell me or anything."  
  
Logan's eyes narrowed at the implications regarding his unmanly behavior and snapped, "Thanks."  
  
Scott still couldn't stop. "But how could she not know? Everybody knows!"  
  
Logan spread his arms and smirked, "Well apparently I'm the world's biggest asshole."  
  
Scott finally stopped for a moment and assessed the situation. Considering their relationship was pretty much grounded in torment he couldn't let this one go without some comment. Logan would certainly return the favour at some point later on. "Wow. That really sucks."  
  
"Oh I know it." Logan had a vague idea of what was coming, but if he really wanted Scott's advice he was just going to have to suffer through the harassment first. He would have done the same if their positions were reversed.  
  
"But it is kind of amusing when you think about it. The hairy animal surprises us all by finally settling down and falling desperately for the slip of a girl who adores him, and the girl, doesn't even realize..."  
  
Logan gaped. "What?"  
  
"Well you know, she adored you since the whole touching thing, and we were all worried you were going to be stupid and break her heart and were thrilled when you came to your senses..."  
  
"No!" The cigar was waving in the air. "I mean, what did you call her?"  
  
Scott shrugged. "Slip of a girl? It means lithe, delicate."  
  
Logan's eyes narrowed in disbelief. While shaking his head, "Have you ever met Marie?"  
  
"You don't think she's delicate?"  
  
"She could kick your ass, Summers!" Both men chuckled at the truth in that statement. There was a reason you don't tick off any of the women in the X-Men. Logan sighed as he remembered exactly what mission he was embarking on. "So Scooter, any advice?"  
  
Scott crossed his arms, genuinely confused by this complex problem. "I don't know. I could talk to her."  
  
"Yeah, and that's not embarrassing as hell."  
  
"You could try touching her again. Then she will know without a doubt."  
  
"Don't you think that's a bit of a desperate measure?"  
  
Scott flailed his arms in exasperation. "Well Logan, what other choice do you have. I mean, I have watched you do everything else short of flowers and candy. I would say make love to her, but I assumed you would have found a way to do that a long time ago."  
  
Logan turned and rested his aching head on the metal vehicle. This was embarrassing in the extreme. "I tried suggesting that last night and she freaked." A full body sigh. "I think she thought it was some sort of act of pity or something."  
  
Scott took a few slow steps forward and leaned with his back against the jeep beside his friend. "Tell her you love her." Logan's head turned, his eyes clearly telling him he had done that. "Tell her again. If she doesn't believe you tell her again and again. How would you feel if you lost her?"  
  
Logan closed his eyes. "Like dying. She's my world."  
  
Scott smiled and patted him on the shoulder. "Tell her that, no woman can resist that."   
  
  
  
When Rogue woke up from her "nap" she was very confused. She may have tried convincing herself it was all a dream, some volatile reaction to spiked bridal shower punch, except she realized immediately she was still wearing her noisy windbreaker and the hard surface she was lying on certainly wasn't her bed. No, it was a very cold floor. Her head was pounding like it was splitting open. She felt hung over, but that didn't make any sense. Maybe she felt, she felt ... drugged.  
  
Drugged! That thought sent her immediately to her feet, despite how dizzy she was and how much her body ached. She was in a room by herself. A very dark room. It looked like an office, complete with a desk, but unlike anything she had seen before, the walls were a mix of rock and steel. Steel. Oh God, not again. Just as the last horrifying pieces fell into place she heard Eric's unmistakable voice behind her. "Oh good, you're up. I was beginning to worry Mystique may have overestimated your body weight and you would be out for days."  
  
Rogue turned to see Eric smiling calmly from the doorway with Nancy holding a tray of food behind him. She looked at her new "friend" and drawled, "We meet again. For the third time today isn't it?" Nancy just gave another beautiful smile and slowly started to change. When the other woman stood in her full tall blue glory Rogue turned her attention back to Eric and accused, "So I suppose this means there is some poor dead woman waiting to be found in a rest stop bathroom somewhere in New York state?"   
  
Eric's eyes glinted in amusement at her confidence in addressing him. "No, of course not. My Mystique assures me she only knocked her a little unconscious. Just enough to get the job done."  
  
Rogue tried to sound casual. "Well it certainly is a more subtle approach than the last time."  
  
Eric almost looked sympathetic. "I didn't want you to be afraid Rogue. I knew you wouldn't seek me out of your own free will, so I needed to devise a way to make sure you found your way here."  
  
Might as well be direct. "What am I doing here?"  
  
"Getting warm. Eating a hot meal." He gestured to the shape shifter who moved forward and placed the tray on the desk. "Having a conversation."  
  
Rogue eyed the food suspiciously. "You aren't planning on killing me? You don't want to put me in that machine again?"  
  
"No child. The last thing I want is to bring you harm." He crossed to his side of the desk and sat down. He gestured again to Mystique and the woman silently almost glided from the room.   
  
Rogue watched the departing figure. "You'll understand if I have a little trouble believing you?"  
  
"I suppose that is the natural reaction considering our history." He nodded towards the front of the desk and added, "Why don't you have a seat?"   
  
Rogue considered her options and then resignedly took her place opposite him. She crossed her arms in front of her. "What kind of conversation?"  
  
Eric leaned forward. "I understand your power allowed you to see into my mind. You know I am not the devil."  
  
Rogue crossed her legs and swung her foot, attempting to look unimpressed. "I know you do the things you do because you're scared."  
  
"I am scared. Do you understand what it is that I am afraid of?"  
  
She narrowed her eyes and with a smug grin declared, "That all human beings are no better than Nazis."  
  
"How insightful." A pause. "You, a girl who can kill with a simple touch. You could very well be the most dangerous weapon in the world." His tone became a little more harsh. "Do you really believe that humans, knowing what you are capable of, would be brave enough to let you live? Even other mutants fear you."  
  
Rogue froze. That comment cut inside her. "Mutants understand I never want to hurt anybody."  
  
"Do they? After the demonstration you gave this morning?" He paused, letting his words sink in. "But I understand you. We are very similar you and I."  
  
"Similar?" she spat. "You want a war!"  
  
Eric sighed, "Perhaps you don't understand all the images in your head. I don't want a war child, I am prepared for its inevitability. It may be subtle, but it is an important distinction." He placed his hand on the desk, index finger pointed towards her. "We are similar because we understand that sometimes sacrifices need to be made."  
  
Rogue was growing tired of this conversation. "Like you were going to sacrifice me?"  
  
"Yes. But that was a mistake. I was lacking foresight at the time. Do you have any idea how powerful you are? What potential you have?"  
  
Rogue lowered her voice, seeing the simple truth. "You want to use me."  
  
Eric sat back in his chair. "When the time comes I want you to be on my side yes. You will also come to want that eventually."   
  
Rogue craned her neck forward to emphasize her point, "But I'M not going to sacrifice anyone."  
  
"You already have," he stated flatly. In a casual tone, "It was the right choice. There is no shame in your actions. You believed if you acted otherwise you would have both died. That is the point; survival is key. Your instinct to survive is strong enough to overcome your moral quandaries, strong enough to fight." He stopped as he saw her eyes widen at his comments about her. He didn't want to scare her off. He wanted to gain her trust. "That will come in time. For now I offer you refuge. I don't believe you will find it anywhere else. Charles is a remarkably forgiving man, but you have killed his favorite. Stay with us for a while. You will have a warm bed, food to eat and I am sure you will find our company more hospitable than the trucker willing to give you a ride. Most importantly I will not judge you. If you decide it is tolerable, stay on. If you don't you are free to go. Since you don't really have a destination you can't be in any hurry to run to nowhere."  
  
Rogue didn't know what to do. She was a little afraid how his attitude would change if she actually did try to leave. At the same time she knew from having him in her head, Eric was not a truly evil man. He didn't kill indiscriminately. She didn't believe he would hurt her without reason. If she let him believe she was considering his offer of joining the Brotherhood she would be safe here for a while, as long as he understood, "I don't want to fight my friends."  
  
Eric steepled his fingers under his chin and agreed, "Neither do I child, neither do I."   
  
  
  
  
Logan was desperately trying to remain calm, but it wasn't going to well. It had been three days. Worse Marie had dropped off the Cerebro radar sometime in the middle of the first night. No one was sure what had happened. The most Charles had been able to tell him was the last time he checked she was still with the same woman, on a dirt road near a small town about an hour south west of Ottawa. "Great," Logan had growled, "cottage country." That ain't like finding a pine needle in a god damned forest.  
  
If Charles had told him one more time not to panic Logan was sure he was going to smash something. Charles assured him again and again that they didn't yet know all the limitations of Cerebro. Perhaps if she was in a particularly dense part of the woods, or even a cave they wouldn't be able to locate her. Or at the bottom of a lake, Logan had silently added. He refrained from asking the one question that sat in the bottom of his stomach; what happened when a person died? Did they show up on the radar then?   
  
Scott had once again offered to join him. Logan turned him down, telling him this was his specialty. Tracking someone was what he was built for after all. "Don't let your pride get in the way of accepting help Logan," Scott had warned.  
  
Logan responded flatly, "Right now I don't have any pride left Summers." He remade his promise to call if he found anything that looked dangerous.   
  
The second day had been spent breaking into all the deserted cottages along the dirt road Charles had indicated. Perhaps Marie had found her way in and decided to stay somewhere warm and dry. Of course he found nothing. The last day he started combing the woods. The one break he had been given was at least the road in question had a dead end. That narrowed his search to the one particular area. One particular area that happened to be about five square miles of trees.  
  
Logan thought of Scott's offer again as he found yet another hunting trail. No, he wanted to do this on his own. He was starting to realize he just wanted to be alone when he found the body. Then it would be a lot easier to disappear himself.  
  
  
  
Rogue was in her tiny bed in her bare room, wide awake. She could not sleep well here. She was used to the warmth and smell of the old, rich wood and the comforting glow it created in the lamplight. In her room at the school she had always felt cozy and safe. In this room she could not deny the fact she was in a cave. Oh it was a cave with all the modern conveniences and the granite walls were covered in steel, but it was nonetheless a big cold rock that surrounded her. No matter how hard she tried she couldn't close her eyes and escape where she was and exactly what she had done.  
  
During the day she was pretty much supervised. They left her alone but there was always someone around. Eric had specifically asked her to remain inside, they wouldn't want her to get lost. Right, lost. The last two days had seemed particularly odd. Twice she had walked in on the large man known as Sabertooth and Eric talking quietly, they stopped when they saw her approach. Everyone seemed tense. She was worried she might have to face a confrontation about her loyalties earlier than she had anticipated. At night though, she was left on her own in the frigid silence. She would curl up under her blanket and search her mind for one perfect memory to attempt to hide in. This night it was fishing.  
  
Rogue wasn't exactly sure why Logan had insisted on teaching her how to fish. She suspected it might have something to do with the skating debacle of the previous winter. She had made him do something he considered girly and he had fallen on his ass right in front of Scott and Jean. Still on his back he glared up into Scott's smiling face and simply growled, "Not one word One Eye." As she picked him up and dusted him off he watched Scott and Jean gracefully glide away and grumbled, "Am I supposed to be impressed that the pansy can skate? Just makes him look even more faggotty if you ask me." She glared at him and made an observation she had kept to herself for a long time; he and Scott took far too much joy out of tormenting each other for their hatred to be sincere. They acted more like teenage brothers than real rivals. He tugged on her arm, took a few tentative slides and told her he had no idea what she was talking about.   
  
Yes, fishing was definitely revenge. Logan wanted to make her do something manly, complete with a rusty tin can of slimy worms. What he didn't know was she had no intention of allowing him the satisfaction of watching her squirm. She plopped down beside him on the end of the dock, stuck her gardening gloved hand in the can, snagged a worm and impaled it on her hook without a moment's hesitation. She turned a triumphant smile on him and pertly asked, "Now what?"  
  
He shook his head and chuckled a little. "You certainly are something kid."  
  
She arched an eyebrow and teasingly inquired, "Something good?"  
  
"Yeah, something good. Come here kid." He put his own pole down and shifted over till he was right beside her, his hip pressed against hers. He leaned back and put his arm around her, covering her hand on the pole with his. Together they reached back and then flung the pole forward, his thumb pressing down on hers over the button at the right moment. The worm sailed into the middle of the lake.   
  
So much for revenge. She loved the entire interlude. The sky was clouded and the dock was wet from the early morning rain, but the lake was absolutely still and peaceful. Perfect conditions for fishing, he told her. They chatted quietly and ate the sandwiches she had made. She even enjoyed how his cigar smelled mixed with the scent of rain and the musty old wood of the dock.  
  
At the end of the day she had caught four fish and he hadn't reeled in anything aside from the occasional clump of seaweed. She had to gloat a little. As they walked up the path she carried the fish dangling from the chain at eye level and inspected them as they wiggled around. "You know, when I first caught it I thought number four was bigger than number three, but now I'm thinking it's really number three that's bigger." He just looked at her with his eyes narrowed, nose crinkled and his lips kind of pursed She knew he wasn't really mad. Logan was never really mad on these occasions which is why she knew it was safe to tease and he would always obligingly pretend to be grumpy. It was a routine they both enjoyed.   
  
When they got to the kitchen he gestured to the sink and said, "Well, there you go." She just stared at him in confusion. He looked at her pointedly, "The rule is Marie, you catch em, you clean em."  
  
She took on an unimpressed pose, one arm crossed in front of her, the other holding the fish up at shoulder level, swinging casually to the side. "Unless you seriously intend for me to give these fish a bath, I suggest that you, oh great fishing guru, ought to do whatever cleaning it is you have in mind."   
  
He heaved a great sigh to demonstrate exactly how put out he was, snatched to fish from her and plopped them unceremoniously in the sink. He routed around in a drawer and produced a long slender knife which he began to sharpen. He noticed her standing there, mouth opening and closing the way it does when she has a question she isn't sure how to ask. "What?"  
  
"You ... I mean I thought ... um..." She shifted on her feet and kind of pointed at his hands. "You aren't going to use," her hand flapped a little, "your claws?"   
  
His nose wrinkled and he looked at the fish somewhat disgustedly. "This is fish guts. I don't want smelly fish guts on my claws."  
  
More hand flapping and shifting. "But you stab people with them."  
  
"When I have to. And people don't smell like fish guts." She kind of snorted. Feeling the need to defend himself he continued, "Look if I was lost in the woods, knifeless and hungry I would happily skin a fish with my claws. As it is we are in a civilized environment as you keep reminding me."  
  
She smiled. "Watch it Logan, or people are going to think I've tamed you or something."  
  
He muttered down to the knife, "Well they wouldn't be wrong."  
  
As he continued preparations, finding some newspaper and a cutting bored, she stared down at the fish as they flopped helplessly in the sink. She was starting to feel pangs of guilt. Finally ready, Logan picked up the first fish, unhooked it from the chain and placed it on the bored. Knife posed in the air he hesitated and turned to her. "Are you sure you want to watch?"  
  
Looking not at him but at the fish waiting on the bored she answered, "I kind of feel like I owe it to the fish." A pause. "Maybe it's silly, but I'm the reason they're dying, I feel like I should at least observe their death or something."   
  
A moment passed and he nodded. Then he turned his attention back to the fish and pressed the knife down hard. He leaned his weight into the effort and with a crunch the head was removed from the body. As he pulled the head away some organs came with it and he tossed the waste on the newspaper. There was some blood, but not as much as she had thought there would be. He turned the fish upright and carefully cut along one side of the spine and then the other, separating meat from bone. Finally he held one half of the remainder and ran the knife between the flesh and the skin, leaving a perfect white filet. She was oddly fascinated. She had never watched anything aside from an insect die. She felt different, less innocent.   
  
He cleaned up the newspaper, put the bored and knife into the sink to soak and washed his hands in the hot soapy water. As he placed the fish into a baggy he eyed her and asked, "So, do you want to cook these up for dinner tonight?"  
  
"Maybe tomorrow?" she answered softly.  
  
"Okay." He smiled a bit as he tossed the bag of filets into the freezer. He walked over to her and enveloped her in a deep hug. "You did good kid. You did real good."  
  
She wrapped her arms around him and spoke into his chest. "Logan, I like fishing with you, but I absolutely draw the line at hunting. I can handle the fish death, but I am not watching you do that to Bambi."  
  
He chuckled and pressed a kiss against the top of her head. "Okay kid, you got a deal, but then I don't want to see you coming anywhere near me with a pair of roller blades or other fandangled contraption."  
  
For a moment, in her bed in the cave, Rogue was happy. She knew if she could just concentrate hard enough on the memory she could fall asleep and maybe dream of him. Not until the morning would she face the truth, that she might never see him again, or how he would look at her if she did.  
  
  
  
It was the fifth day and Logan was at wits end. For some reason he had narrowed his search to one particular trail. He wasn't sure why. It was just a feeling. He had told Marie to trust her instincts a long time ago. Now he was counting on his, while offering a small prayer that he wasn't losing his mind, that this feeling wasn't just some daydream he was telling himself.   
  
He was off the trail and walking around the base of a rock face. He had passed this miniature cliff at least twenty times. There was nothing particularly special about it. It was covered with the usual grass, small plants and moss, with the occasional bare rock jutting out. This time as he walked he dragged his hand along the surface. This time as he walked he found an opening.  
  
He froze in his tracks. Sure enough, as he pushed a deceptive carpet of leaves and moss aside, there was a human sized opening. It was a cave. A cave! One of those things Chuck had mentioned if a person was inside, they might not show up on the old, piece of crap, state of the art my ass, radar. He took out his lighter and slowly entered trying to tell himself to remain calm, if Marie was really hiding in here, certainly she would have come out at some point looking for food. He would have found her before now. But as the tunnel started to descend and not to mention widen, he found his hopes soaring again. Who knew how far this thing went. Perhaps there was another exit miles off someplace else.  
  
He concentrated on finding Marie's scent. He thought he caught a slight whiff of her and his mind started screaming, she's alive, I am going to find her alive. Which is why he wasn't paying attention and why he was so surprised when he found himself being picked up and thrown through the air. As soon as he landed he realized what he had missed. There was another familiar smell in the air and Scott was going to kill him for not checking in.   
  
Logan turned to face his nemesis as the blond animal man started shouting, "I have been watching you for days. Magneto wanted to let you be. Allow you to give up and leave on your own. You would have lived, but now you're mine."  
  
Logan rose and claws extended growled, "I wouldn't count on it."  
  
The fight barely lasted a minute, each man getting few blows in. Then as the fur clad monster hoisted a particularly large rock above his head, Logan heard a familiar voice screaming, "No!"  
  
He couldn't stop himself. On instinct Logan turned his head to take in the sight he thought he would never see again. "Marie!" Whump! Everything faded to black.  
  
  



	3. Convergence

Title: Reasonable Doubts Part 3/5 - Convergence   
Author: Gowdie  
Category: Logan and Rogue romance. Just enough angst to get the story moving, a lot of laughter and eventually a happy ending. Hopefully like life!  
Rating: PG13 for language and hand love. Not THAT kind of hand love! That would be R or NC 17. Yeesh! Maybe later.  
Archive: Please dear God, please let someone want this. Just please also let them send me a message so I can write a thank you note and visit.  
Disclaimer: Unless extreme amounts of giddiness and laughter have recently been declared material gains, then no I am not profiting from this story since I clearly do not own these characters.  
Feedback: Yes please! I promise to say thank you!   
  
Thanks: To Diebin and Donna for being total hand love converts despite their initial reservations! Oh yeah, and also for repeatedly telling me that it doesn't suck. To my real life friend Narla for dragging her ass back from backpacking around England to proofread this part! What? You mean that isn't why she came back?   
  
Author Notes: Okay guys, exams start next week so I am afraid I must take a bit of a break. Am very sorry, but such is the way of life. I will post a Christmas special that fits in the RD universe on the 23rd or 24th (depending on when I finish it). It will be the three Christmases prior to the beginning of RD. Then I am afraid you won't get Part 4 till January. Again sorry, but if I don't crack a book soon, will all be for naught.  
  
Note to PETS: Look, look, I gave him a heart! Isn't it pretty! Scott and I both like it, I sure hope you guys approve.  
  
  
  
  
It was cold. Logan knew he was not in his bed because it was so damn cold. Oh, and hard too. Whatever he had been sleeping on was really freaking hard. He couldn't figure out why on earth he had decided to stay here, wherever here was. But there was something else. Marie. He could smell Marie and she was very close. For some reason that realization made such a sense of relief wash over him that he didn't mind the uncomfortable surface or the cold. Why was that?  
  
Then his brain started to sing. She's alive! He had thought she was dead, had believed he would never see her again and now he knew she was alive. Everything was right with his world. Now he just had to remember where they were and how they got there. Wanting to focus only on her wonderful scent for a moment he kept his eyes closed and stretched out with a groan.  
  
Very tentatively, "You're awake?"  
  
Oh her voice! Her sweet, sweet voice that he had missed so much. He smiled, relishing in the sound. Maybe if he kept his eyes closed and refused to move she would come over and play with him. "Yeah, I'm awake darlin'."  
  
She was very cautious now, "I'm sorry Logan. I shouldn't have called out. It's my fault you got hit so hard."  
  
Her fault? What was her fault? Oh crap. The bits and pieces started to come back: fighting with Sabertooth, Marie running toward them screaming, him allowing himself to be distracted like some kid in his first fight on the playground, the big hairy son of a bitch dropping a bolder on his head. Didn't that bastard know that hitting people with trees and hunks of mountain was against the rules? Rules, Logan almost laughed at his own joke. It was time to face the world. Logan opened his eyes.  
  
Oh crap, crap, crap. They were in some kind of prison. No, correct that, he was in some kind of prison, she was standing, free as a bird, on the other side of the bars. Logan sat up. "Marie, why is it I'm in here and you're," a pause, "not?"  
  
She looked down at the her feet ashamed. She gestured vaguely behind her. "They want me to join them. I'm not. I am just biding my time." Suddenly all the details flooded back. Marie had touched Jean. Marie had run, that's why he was looking for her. Marie thought Jean was dead, that she had killed her. "I promise I will figure out a way to get you out of here."  
  
"Jean's not dead."  
  
Her head snapped up at his words. Unbelieving eyes drilled into him. Barely a whisper, "What?"  
  
Logan was on his feet and standing near the bars in mere seconds. He noticed she took a few steps back as he approached. Oh God, she was afraid of him. In a very gentle voice, "She's not dead. You didn't kill her. She is going to be fine. Scott said she is going to be fine and he understands." A slight pause for emphasis, "We all understand."  
  
Rogue just stared at him, her mouth hanging open slightly, still not quite believing. Trying to speak she took a breath, but faltered. She tried again, "But they said..." She didn't need to finish. Of course they lied. They were trying to manipulate her, why should she expect the truth about anything? She looked back down to the ground and shook her head sadly. "It doesn't matter. I mean, I am grateful she's okay, but that doesn't change what I did."  
  
Wanting to touch her, but unable to reach, Logan settled for wrapping his hands around the bars. "It doesn't matter, but not for why you think. I know what it is you're feeling." Uncertain eyes met his. Logan plunged ahead, "Look, I know we never talk about it, but that first night, if you had died, that would've been it for me."  
  
He was on uncertain ground, since their exchanged apologies on the train, they had never spoken of that night. It wasn't that the subject was taboo, in fact it was the opposite. They didn't feel they had anything more to say. Everything was already out in the open between them. They had both held out their cards for the other to plainly read. This is how easily we could destroy each other. The pain and loss we are feeling are why we never will. Needless to say, the experience bonded them, but there was more than just the immeasurable trust that had been born; they had also given each other a gift. Rogue hadn't actively been courting death, but she wasn't exactly convinced her life was one worth living. Logan on the other hand had been practically daring death to take him. Each day was another game of "Let's see what you've got." But in that shared moment they had both believed they were going to die. Death's immanence had never been more tangible as it mercilessly pulled them toward its permanent destination. As they gasped for breath, they both finally realized just how desperately they wanted to live. All of this was known. They both understood what they had given each other and were even oddly grateful for the lesson, but in the few moments before she had touched him, Logan had believed in another certainty.   
  
He proceeded, "I don't think I need to tell you, I wasn't exactly keen on the idea of companionship. I avoided attachments like they were a disease." He started to point at her, "Then you came along and not only would you not go away, but you were as nosy as hell."  
  
Rogues eyes narrowed, she couldn't help it. "I assume you have a point."  
  
"I'm getting there," Logan grimaced and continued gesturing toward her. "I was saying, I gave you no reason to, but you insinuated yourself in my life and against my better judgement, made me care. Chuck was bloody well giving me a tour and I kept spying on you through windows."  
  
"I didn't know that."  
  
"Yeah, I'm stealthy." He sighed, "My point is, you were the purest, most honest thing to highjack its way into my life and if I had killed you that would've been the end. I would've destroyed this beautiful, open girl who trusted me without reason and I never would've forgiven myself. I would've left that night and found some hole to live in where I could be sure that no one would ever get close to me again."  
  
Rogue allowed a small smile. "That is actually where I was headed. This," she waved her hands at their surroundings, "this is just a detour."  
  
Logan rested his head against the bars. Softly, "Okay, but that isn't what you would've wanted for me. You would've forgiven me even if I couldn't. Knowing you, I'm not even sure you would've blamed me." He paused, making sure he had her absolute attention. He needed to be sure she believed his next words. "Jean wouldn't want that for you either. She'd forgive you and want you to come home. We all want you to come home."   
  
Logan watched as she turned away, her shoulders sagged, and her arms wrapped around herself. She gave a slight sniff and when she faced him again a few tears had escaped down her cheeks. "God Logan, I don't understand how you can even look at me."  
  
Compassion filled his voice, "Why wouldn't I be able to look at you, Marie?"  
  
Sobbing, "Because I almost took her away from you." He stared at her blankly. She was going to have to be more direct. "I almost killed the woman you love."  
  
Logan's jaw almost hit the floor. He stood there sputtering for a few moments. "The woman I...? You think that Jean...? That's what this is all about? Oh my God." He started hitting his head against the bars softly. If he wasn't so manly he might just cry at the frustration. How had they read each other so wrong? He stopped his movement and heaved a sigh. "The woman I love is you. I love you Marie."  
  
"No you don't," she spat.  
  
Copying her tone, "Yes I do."  
  
Louder, "No you don't."  
  
"Yes, Marie, I do."  
  
"No," she was really getting angry, "you don't!"  
  
"God damn it Marie!" He jerked away from the bars and started pacing. "I'm pretty damn sure I get to make up my own mind about this. I love you. You're it. You're the one. It's all about you."  
  
This was getting insulting. He was actually going to lie to her as some kind of brilliant strategy to bring her home. Then what? How long would he play out the charade then? "Look Logan," she snapped, "you can't lie to me." That seemed to get his attention. At least he stopped moving around so much. "You were inside my head. I felt all your emotions and saw everything you wanted and remembered." Emphasizing each word, "I know how you feel about her."   
  
Logan practically bent himself in half leaning back to shout, "That was three years ago! Can't a man change his mind?" Regaining some calm, he walked back to the bars. "Alright, I admit, when we first showed up at the school, I kinda liked Jean."  
  
Rogue crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. "'Kinda liked?' I saw vivid, graphic pictures of exactly what you wanted to do to her. 'Kinda liked' are not the words those images bring to mind."  
  
Logan rubbed his face in his hands in exasperation. He wasn't sure if this new information made the situation better or worse than he had thought. Obviously he had figured out Marie didn't know he loved her. He hadn't realized that was because she was convinced he loved somebody else. Oh man, Scott would have a field day with this. "So Logan, what is this? Reason number twenty-seven you should have just stayed away from my girl?" Go away putz. "I am just saying that, you know, I was right." No, no, concentrate. Having imaginary conversations with Scooter was not going to help. He stole a glance at Marie. She was waiting. Worse, it was definitely worse. He wished he could just tell her he knew the moment he saw her staring at him in that bar. He had felt something as he had regarded her, maybe the answer was hidden in that truth. How to win the girl you love: tell her how her open gaze scared the absolute shit out of you. Well it had to go better than "say it with dog tags" didn't it?  
  
He approached the bars again. "Okay kid, sit." She just stared at him. He winced at his own words. "That's probably part of the problem isn't it?" He sat down and gazed up at her. "Please sit with me Marie." Still silent she acquiesced, sitting cross-legged, directly opposite him. He reached through the bars and took her hand. She let him, that was good. Now, where to start? Cautiously, "Can I explain about Jean?"  
  
Looking down she shrugged, "I guess so."  
  
"Even if it hurts a little?" The incredulous look she gave him clearly asked how a little more hurt was possible given their circumstances. "I want to give you the truth Marie. It's not a perfect story, but I think it's right."  
  
A tiny voice, "I only want the truth."  
  
"Okay." A deep breath and he dove forward. "When I met Jean, I had a gut reaction and it wasn't exactly of the genteel variety. I mean she is beautiful and sexy and she also has the whole intelligence and pose thing going on. She tries to act all cool and aloof but there is a lot of passion running underneath and I, well I instantly wanted to show her just how passionate she could be." He stopped to check on her. Marie's eyes were fixed on their hands. This isn't what she wanted to hear, but he had to get it out. Just keep going. "She didn't help much either cause I could tell she liked me, but she kept insisting on making it clear that I wasn't going to get anywhere. Which of course just made me want her even more." A slight smile. "Then there was Scott. The fact that it drove him so crazy just made the game that much more fun." In complete earnest, "But you are wrong Marie, it wasn't love. It was lust and pride and wanting something I couldn't have, but it was never love."  
  
She sniffed and wiped at her eyes with her free hand. "And what exactly does that have to do with me?"  
  
Gently he caressed the back of her silk-covered fingers with his thumb. "Because I had a gut reaction to you too."  
  
Barely a hopeful whisper, "What?"  
  
"You were just sitting there, starring at me. It was like 'Here I am.' Okay, so the first thing I thought was, 'weird.' But you didn't look away and then everything just screamed, 'Get out. Get out cause given the chance that kid is going to fuck up your life something fierce.'" She pulled her hand away. Reaching for her, "No wait, this is a good thing." He caught her wrist and held it fiercely. "I didn't understand how you were gonna fit in my life, but I knew you had to power to change it."  
  
She tilted her head and asked sarcastically, "I changed your life?"  
  
"You know you did." Ignoring her scoff and eye rolling he continued, "I didn't give a rat's ass about anyone but myself and the way you looked at me scared me cause I knew you were the type who wasn't going to go away easy. Then all of a sudden you were taken away and that scared me even more." Quieter as the memory still bore some pain, "Hearing you scream..." He shook his head trying to rid the image from his mind. "You had to live. There was no question about who was more important. Your life meant more to me than my own. I had never felt that way before, but I felt that for you in a matter of days." Practically begging for her to see the significance of what he said, "That has to count for something."  
  
He reached forward and took her other hand. As he stroked his thumbs over her clenched fingers she sat quietly. He decided to take her silence as a sign that maybe he was getting through, but he still had to finish. "I wish I could tell you it was love at first sight. I wish I could tell you it was some fairy tale where I knew the second I saw you. I wish I could tell you there was light and bells and music and the rest of that shit, but I can't, because the truth is I fell in love with you slowly." She looked up at him at that, eyes a little surprised. She had been listening to him say it for a while now, surprise could only mean she was starting to believe. He squeezed her hands and held her eyes with his, "A little bit, day by day, as I got to know you. It happened so slowly I didn't even notice. Then the day came when I had to take a long hard look at myself and I realized I couldn't even remember what it felt like to not need to be near you."  
  
Softly, "Need to be near me, because you love me."  
  
A confirmation, "I love you Marie."  
  
A little more confident, Rogue smiled, "You love me."  
  
Logan smiled back and nodded slowly, "I love you."  
  
Still trying to process through all the changes to the way she understood the world, all she could say at the moment was, "Huh."  
  
Still wishing he could fix what had created the whole misunderstanding he said, "I'm sorry you had to see everything inside my head you did. I mean, it's one thing to know the person you're with has a past and had fantasies about another woman, but it is completely different to have everything so spelled out for you like that. It must be kinda gross for you huh?"  
  
Rogue's eyebrows knitted together as she frowned a little. "Not gross, just," a pause as she thought of the words, "a rabid source of insecurity."  
  
"Would it help if I told you Jean hasn't even occurred to me in a long time?"  
  
"How long?" Logan shifted uneasily. "Come on Logan, I'm a big girl, I can take it."  
  
Logan stared at their hands for a few moments. "How honest do you want me to be?"  
  
A small voice and a shrug, "I want to know."  
  
His head leaning against the bars, he shifted his gaze to meet her eyes. He would give her the truth. "When I first got back, I still thought of her for a while. I don't know, a few months maybe." With a shrug, "Then it just kinda faded. I didn't really think about anyone for a bit and that," his eyes widened the outrageousness of the thought, "was weird." A pause before he softly added, "I loved you Marie, I just wasn't allowing myself to think of you that way, until one day I couldn't help it." The serious look turned to a sly grin. "Once I finally got my head out of my ass, I promise you, the fantasies I've had of you are more vivid and graphic than anything I have ever come up with before."  
  
"About me?" A nod. "You have sex fantasies about me?" Another nod. "You want me?"  
  
"Desperately."  
  
Rogue pulled her hands away, crossed her arms in front of her and demanded, "Well why the hell didn't you tell me?"  
  
Taken aback by the sudden change in tone Logan tried to catch up, "What?"  
  
"Why didn't you spell it out?" She animatedly at him. "Why didn't you just tell me you wanted to have sex with me?"  
  
"What was I supposed to say? Gee Marie, you know what I would really like to do tonight is throw you up against a wall and bury myself in you till I can't see straight. Too bad we can't give it a go? It didn't really seem appropriate."  
  
Rogue's breath caught and she sighed at the thought. "That would have been nice."  
  
A little incredulous, "Pardon?"  
  
She started fidgeting with her gloves and admitted, "I didn't think anyone was ever gonna want me. It would have been nice to hear it from you, even if we couldn't do it."  
  
Logan ducked his head, "I thought, I thought I was waiting for you to tell me you were ready."  
  
She started laughing and shaking her head, "Logan I have been ready for you since the first time I saw you half naked and sweaty."  
  
For a moment he gave her a feral grin, but sobered quickly. "I am sorry I made you wait so long."  
She rose up on her knees and stroked his cheek thoughtfully. "I think maybe I like that you took your time. There's less chance you will change you mind later."  
  
Taking her face in his hands he vowed, "I am never gonna change my mind about you Marie."  
  
Their moment was ruined when a proper voice suddenly filled the silence. "Well, isn't this just a picture of sweetness." Both Logan and Rogue stood immediately and turned to face Eric, who simply frowned at them. "I see our situation has changed. I was rather hoping to avoid that." To Logan, "You really should have just stayed away from here, everything would have been so much easier."  
  
Logan reached back through the bars to take Marie's hand back in his. "Sorry to disappoint bub, but I am afraid Marie and I will have to be leaving."  
  
Eric smiled a little. "Right." To make his point, with a simple glance at Logan he effortlessly lifted him in the air and allowed him to continue to hover there helplessly. He turned back to Rogue who was staring at her hands in contemplation. "I really wouldn't think about it child. Even if you managed to touch me I could rip your darling boy to pieces in the moment before your powers took hold." She lifted her face to glare at him. "Now before you start making any escape plans there is something I would like to show you that may perhaps change your mind." He turned back to Logan and with a wave of his hand opened the cell bars. "Oh yes, you may come too."  
  
Eric led them through various corridors, seemingly deeper and deeper into the mountain. Logan glided behind him with Rogue walking at his side. Logan occasionally huffed and puffed in his useless efforts to free himself from the magnetic hold. Finally giving up he turned his head as much as he could to Marie and grumbled, "I really hate this guy." Despite herself and their situation she smiled.   
  
Finally they reached the end of a hallway with a single opened door. Inside was yet another empty steel room. "Here we are." With yet another graceful twist of Eric's hand Logan was tossed inside.   
  
Rogue watched in horror as his body hurtled towards the opposite wall, his head making a terrible cracking sound as it made contact. His body landed in a crumpled heap on the floor. She ran to him. Rage filling her she turned her attention back to Eric who stood calmly in the door. He smiled at her. "I built this room as a gift for you. I was hoping it may convince you to stay."  
  
Disgusted with him she sneered, "I just looks like another cell."  
  
"Yes well, you didn't give me a chance to complete the finishing touches as I would have liked." He crossed his arms and looked at her sternly. "It suppresses one's mutation, so I would tell your boy to think twice before using those claws of his. His healing factor will not function and I am afraid he may hurt himself. Well my dear, enjoy." He turned and left, the door shutting behind him with the distinctive sound of a lock being turned.   
  
  
Scott Summers was being a brave man. He was very brave when he offered to help search for Rogue. He was very brave when he repeatedly assured the students who asked him, that yes, Jean would be fine. And he was being very brave each day as he continued to conduct his classes. He was sure if he had to be brave much longer he would make himself sick. Still though, he steadfastly refused to appear outwardly anything other than the picture of calm. He understood his role as the leader well. He was order. He could be counted on to never panic, not in the face of any crisis. There was practically a silent rule; if Scott Summers was afraid, the world must truly be ending. And this was one time he would not allow anyone to have any doubts, the world, his world, was not about to change.  
  
Five days. The coma had lasted for five days. His mind repeatedly told him her body was just resting. Jean was simply taking the time she needed to regain her energy and then she would return to him, good as new. He understood that this was true, she was out of danger, she would be her perfect self again soon. His heart was far less reasonable though, demanding that he spend every moment with her that he could.   
  
The one crack in his calm facade was the fact he slept on a cot beside her each night. This act was in deference to his heart. He had tried to return to their shared room the first night, but sitting on the bed, realizing he would have to sleep there alone, and seeing all her things surrounding him, the panic started to rise. Again his brain rallied to reassure that all would be well, but his heart drowned it out screaming "Well then, get thee to the med lab and prove it to us both!" The choice was simple; either spend the entire night trying not to vomit, or sleep fitfully where he belonged, by her side.   
  
He was watching her again on the fifth day. Sitting in a chair, his chin rested on the table near her face. Lightly he traced his fingers along her hair line and remembered the last night she had been awake.   
  
He had been already in bed reading when she returned, arms filled with pastel coloured gift bags. Once inside she dropped everything in a giant heap and leaned back against the door, apparently exhausted. A silent moment passed as he stared at the display she made, head tilted back, eyes closed, catching her breath. Putting his book aside he asked the natural question, "So how was the party?"  
  
She opened her eyes and crossed her arms. She pursed her lips considering how to respond to his inquiry. "I had to wear a funny hat and there was porn."  
  
He was confused. "Was this a shower or a bachelorette party?"  
  
She stared down at the pile of bags as if they would provide an answer. "I really don't know."  
  
"Well," he offered helpfully, "all parties of the bachelor variety involve at least a little porn I think."  
  
Jean leaned forward and arched an eyebrow to make her point, "This was not exactly what you might call high quality porn."  
  
His nose wrinkled at a disturbing memory of his own. "It wasn't some of that amateur home made stuff was it? Cause those can be kinda..." Jean's mouth dropped open. "What?" She started moving across the room towards him, both eyebrows now raised at him accusingly. "I came here when I was seventeen. Besides I thought you knew everything."  
  
Reaching the foot of the bed she shook her head and gave him an amused smile. "No, it turns out you bury some of your secrets very well."  
  
Scott got to his knees and crawled down the bed to her. He placed his hands at her hips and offered his best charming smile. "Did you get to keep the funny hat?"  
  
Jean whipped around and dug madly threw the bags till she found what she was looking for. She turned to face him holding a paper plate covered in ribbons and bows. She grinned mischievously and dared him, "Wanna help me burn it?"  
  
Later as they watched the last embers burn down in the sink he wrapped his arms around her and suggested that perhaps he was the best cure for any residual party demons that were haunting her. Soon after they were back on the bed, happily tangled together. Just as he started trailing a path of kisses down her body, her nails dug into his skin and her back arched as she cried out, "Oh Dirk, you are such an animal!" The declaration stopped him cold, but the glint in her eyes revealed everything even before the wild laughter started bubbling out of her. His next course of action was clear. Catching her up in his arms before she even noticed what was happening, he rolled her off the bed. She landed with a satisfying, "Yeow!"   
  
Unfortunately, having a telekinetic for a fiancé had its disadvantages and Scott soon found himself landing next to her with his own "Oof." In a fit of hysterics they giggled together on the floor until they could barely breath.  
  
Finally settling down Jean stroked his chest with long fingers and winked at him. "Oh come on Fearless Leader, make me forget every man's name but yours." And by damn it, he did.  
  
Scott knew he was one of the few people in the world who was allowed to see it, but Jean was filled with so much life, it didn't make sense for her to be so still for so long. Raising his head from the table he pressed his lips against her temple and whispered, "Come on love, I need you to come back to me, please."   
  
  
  
The first time Rogue has watched over an unconscious Logan, it had been with a sense of regret. She was afraid she was losing someone before she had even had a chance to know him and since the second she had laid eyes on him, all her instincts had been busy convincing her that Logan was a man she needed to know.   
  
She realized people would probably say it was some sort of defense mechanism. Her brain chose to focus on the man she had just met and not wanting him to die, rather than processing the rest of her situation. She had after all just climbed into some sort of airplane with two strangers and was being flown to an unknown destination. However, that theory ignored one important point; Rogue was even less afraid of Scott and Ororo than she was of Logan. Ororo opened her arms and Rogue understood that she was safe. It was remarkable how easy it was to tell who the good guys were.  
  
She didn't understand exactly why she wasn't afraid of Logan, she just wasn't. Maybe it was because he worked so terribly hard at being mean. "Pick one," of all the jack-ass things to say. Practically chucking the beef jerky at her had also been a nice touch. She suspected the reason he made such a production of setting boundaries was because she was the one who was threatening, not him. There was something about him she liked almost instantly. Maybe it was just the challenge. Whatever the case may be, almost without warning she was looking down at him and praying to God no to let him die.   
  
As soon as they landed she was ushered off to her new home and he was taken away. She wanted to see him, but everything over the next day happened in a furious blur. She met the Professor, he described what her new life could be like, took her on a tour, introduced her to some girls her own age and all of a sudden it was bedtime. The next morning she was whisked off to breakfast and classes and by lunch she had heard Logan was up again anyway.   
  
Logan found her at dinner. He strode in the dinning room in his jeans and a school sweat shirt and walked right up to her, ignoring all the people staring at him. When he reached her table he leaned down and asked in a low voice, "Is everyone treating you alright?" She told him that yes, everyone was being very nice. He squinted for a minute as though he was trying to determine if she was being honest or just polite. Apparently deciding he was satisfied he said "Okay kid, I'll see you later," and walked back out again. Watching him leave she realized he felt it too. Regardless of their nonexistent history, they had been brought to the school as a unit and that connected them somehow. He felt responsible for her just as she did for him. The man who had begrudgingly given her a ride had graduated to begrudgingly being her friend.  
  
The second time Rogue looked on as Logan fought his way back to life with was with an overwhelming sense of guilt. She had done this to him. It was less than an hour after the stabbing episode. Scott had come to her room to find out what had happened and to make sure she was in fact okay. She had demanded to see Logan. Scott crossed his arms and said he didn't think it was a good idea. She could already tell the two men had decided not to like each other. She glared at Scott and as she walked out the door she told him, "Fine, I guess I will have to find him myself." She still isn't exactly sure whose personality had been in control at that moment.  
  
She had gone to help Logan and because she wanted to feel close to him. As completely nonsensical as it may have been he felt familiar in the strange new place. Instead of helping him though, she had almost killed him. And fine, he had almost killed her too. She already knew he would insist on taking some of the blame. The look on his face as she had gasped for breath clearly told her how awful he felt. However, as long as she was the one awake and healthy, she figured she was allowed her guilt. When he woke up he was welcome to his share, but until then she reserved her right to wallow in it.  
  
The third time all Rogue could feel was awe. Logan had given her his life. When he had promised to take care of her she had believed him, but she had never imagined he meant this. She had assumed he had meant something along the lines of making sure the other kids didn't pick on her, or possibly even finding some place new for her if the school hadn't worked out, but never this. She didn't feel guilty, there was no point, it had been his choice and his choice alone. Hence the awe. He had known what would happen, he had known he would most likely die, but he did it anyway, for her.   
  
She visited whenever she could. She assumed Jean suspected how her feelings were leaning, but she couldn't help it; she just couldn't stop starring at him in wonder. The begrudging friend was making promises and saving her life before she even asked him for anything. Okay, so maybe one of the first things she had said to him was that she thought he could help her, but this certainly wasn't what she meant. It was only natural she fell a little bit in love with him.   
  
Obviously over the years there had been many other opportunities for her to play guardian over his bedside. It was almost amusing, he was supposed to be the one who was unkillable, yet he was the one who spent the most time lying prone in the med lab. Rogue assumed that was the whole point. Confident in his own indestructibility he never held anything back and was therefore the one most often carried off the Blackbird on a stretcher. It was at these times she felt that little bit of love grow. She was never really afraid for him as he slept. He had been blown up, squashed and even dropped from ridiculously high places and he always came back to her. However, he had also been making himself more and more the centre of her world and every time he was brought home in this condition, she was more and more certain she didn't want to experience life without him.  
  
Now she was watching over him again and for the first time she was scared. It had been hours and he had barely moved. If what Eric said was true then for the first time Logan was truly vulnerable and she couldn't stand it. Ever since she almost killed a boy with her first kiss she has worried her life was marred by a terrible hex of irony. Logan could not die now. Not when he had just finally gotten around to telling her he longed to give her everything she had ever wanted.  
  
Terrified she placed her head on his chest and continued to wait.  
  
Hours later Logan awoke with a groan. His whole body hurt and his head was pounding. Resting his arm over his eyes to shield the light he announced, "I feel like shit."  
  
Within an instant he felt Marie's hands on his chest as she knelt over him. "Oh thank God, I thought for sure I was watching you die of a concussion right in front of me."  
  
"That's not a very likely possibility." Daring the light he moved his arm aside so he could look at her. She was gazing down at him, her face a mask of concern. What was she so worried about? "How long have I been out?"  
  
Rogue looked around, trying to think. "I don't know. Several hours at least cause I'm starting to get wiggy, I haven't eaten in so long." He pushed himself up to a sitting position, his entire body protesting and his head exploding in an entirely new kind of pain. "You shouldn't get up, you're hurt, you need to rest."  
  
Feeling slightly sheepish, but unable to ignore the physical demand he admitted, "I'm afraid there is something I need to take care of more."  
  
Exasperated, "We are locked in a room Logan, what you could possibly need to take care of?" Noting his flustered expression at her inquiry she turned about five shades of red and waved her hand behind her. "It's over there."  
  
He leaned around her to take a look. Seeing the steel facilities he muttered, "Well, well, with all the conveniences of home."  
  
With a hint of guilt in her voice, "He said he was turning it into a room for me."  
  
Logan frowned at that. "Yeah, cause it's so charming and cozy."   
  
Still worried about him Rogue asked innocently, "Do you need me to help you?" He just stared at her, looking a little more than slightly disturbed. She rolled her eyes and huffed, "Oh for crying out loud, I meant to walk over there."  
  
He chuckled a little, "I think I can make it." With some difficulty Logan got to his feet and slowly walked over to the (and he almost snickered to himself at the aptness of the term in this particular case) can. When he reached his destination he tossed over his shoulder, "No peeking."  
  
Mortified Rogue put her face in her hands. "Oh trust me, that is so not how I want to be introduced." To avoid hearing anything she plugged her ears and started madly humming a tune.  
  
Logan had to hold himself up by balancing with one hand on the wall. He couldn't figure out why he felt so bad. It was like his brain was in a fog or something. After he finished and rezipped he leaned his back against the smooth surface to take a rest before making the journey back over to her. He snorted slightly, Marie had her back to him and was still humming. God he loved it when she acted cute. "You can stop the musical interlude; I'm finished."   
  
She peered at him over her shoulder. "I was just trying to give you some privacy."  
  
One eyebrow cocked, "We Wish You a Merry Christmas?"  
  
Watching him walk back over, Rogue swivelled around on her butt to face him. "I didn't realize you had any specific requests."  
  
He stopped directly in front of her and closed his eyes. Looking a little defeated, "Why does my head hurt so much?"  
  
She reached up and tugged at his hand. "I told you, because you probably have a concussion. Now please sit back down."  
  
Logan eased himself down, rested his aching head in his hands and practically whined, "But I don't get concussions. I mean I didn't hit the wall that hard; even if I got a concussion I shouldn't still have it."  
  
Rogue almost couldn't believe he was finally giving her an opportunity to explain their situation. "Eric said something about this room suppressing mutations. He said your healing factor won't work in here."  
  
He peered at her from between his fingers. "Next time I say something even slightly insinuating that being a mutant sucks, smack me."  
  
Rogue ignored him and continued to ramble, "So you are not allowed to go to sleep, cause people who do have concussions have a habit of not waking up again. Meanwhile I have no idea how to check for indications of brain damage."  
  
"Hey," Logan tapped her knee, "I don't have brain damage. Even if I did, as soon as we get out of here, my brain would just fix itself again. You know that. I'm gonna be okay."  
  
Rogue glared at him, "I never said I was thinking straight, but really, even brain damage?" He nodded, eyeing her curiously. "I guess I didn't really think it through, but somehow slow concussive brain damage seems different than regular body damage."  
  
Logan thought about it for a moment. "I don't think so. I have been hit in the head enough times in the past and I don't act any different than when we first met do I?"  
  
A pile of witty comebacks swarmed her head, but Rogue decided to let them go in the interest of morbid curiosity. "So if I hit you over the head repeatedly, to the point where you ended up like Harrison Ford in Regarding Henry, you mean to tell me the second we walked out that door you would go right back to normal old Logan again?"  
  
His face screwed up in confusion. Slowly, "Okay, I have no idea what you are talking about, but I think the answer is yeah. And you are acting weird."  
  
A little put out, "What do you mean weird?"  
  
"All jumpy and shit, and you're talking fast."  
  
Rogue waved her arms about her. "Well excuse me if this is how I act while in captivity."  
  
The implications behind the thrown away comment gave him pause. This was not the first time she had been held captive by Magneto. His hand was still on her knee and he gave a gentle squeeze. "Oh, is this what you were like last time?"  
  
"No," she crossed her arms defensively, "last time I mostly cried and tried not to throw up. But then the scary people were right in my face and being blatantly honest about the fact that they were gonna kill me and well, you weren't there."  
  
Logan tilted his head and regarded her. He genuinely wanted to know, "You didn't know I was coming?"  
  
Rogue took him in for a moment. His tone had changed; he sounded a little like regret. She attempted a reassuring smile. "I think I understood you would try, but I had yet to learn just how unstoppable you can be."  
  
Softly, "Taking care of you was the first promise I ever made, nothing in hell could have stopped me from keeping it."  
  
Her heart melted a little. She bounced up and down slightly. "Ohhhh, see, that's why I'm acting this way. I am happier and more excited about, well you, or us," huge grin, "than anything else in my entire life and scared we are about to die all at the same time."  
  
Slightly sardonic, "We are gonna get out of here Marie. I don't think any higher power would be cruel enough to do us in right before we get to the good stuff."  
  
She paused to flash a shy smile. "Still, too many life changing emotions all at once." With a huge sigh she flopped over to land in a dramatic heap on the ground. "I really wish I could just cocoon in a nice warm bed for several hours and let everything inside me settle."  
  
Softly Logan brushed away white streaks of hair from her face and whispered, "Just as long as I can snuggle up in that cocoon with you."  
  
She swatted at his hand playfully and giggled, "Okay, comments like that, so not helping my state of giddiness."   
  
He caught her hand and for a moment just watched their entwined fingers. Rugged leather and delicate silk, materials so different, yet each with such a strong personality, they end up complimenting each other because they clash. Fitting together would never be plain and simple, but once a balance is struck, the end would be perfect.  
  
Okay Shakespeare, time to give up the poetic thoughts and concentrate on the situation. He glanced around the bare room. Four steel walls, a toilet, a sink and a door, not much to work with. He could try popping the old claws and prying the door open. Of course if that didn't work he would just be left with a pair of shredded hands on top of the head injury. No it was better to wait, see if old Metal Head and crew gave them an opening. Damn, he hated waiting. He wished there was something, anything he could do to feel useful. More than that, he really wished his head would just stop hurting so much. Stupid good for nothing mutation suppressing room and... Holy shit they were the two biggest freaking idiots on the entire face of the God forsaken planet. "Marie?"  
She was still curled up on the floor. "Mmmmm?"  
  
Trying to remain calm, "I have a concussion."  
  
She frowned at him a little. "Wow, Logan, I'm impressed. Don't ever let anyone tell you you're an old dog who has trouble learning..."  
  
Not wanting to hear the rest he interrupted her. "No Marie, I think there is something we have been missing here." Looking at her pointedly, "I have a concussion because my healing isn't working, because this room is doing something to my mutation."  
  
Rogue slowly pushed herself up to sit in front of him. Since the moment she had watched him hurtle threw the air, watched his body crumple to the ground, she had thought of nothing but him. In the hours she had been alone with his unconscious form, she had been so overwhelmed with the fear he might not wake up and anger at her inability to help him, she hadn't spared a thought for herself.   
  
They both sat in silence, regarding each other and allowing the possibility that was before them to sink in. Eric had said he was building this room as a gift for her. Her voice trembled with uncertainty, "Logan?"   
  
He was staring at her hands which were clasped together in her lap. Slowly he leaned forward and captured one fist in each of his own. With a rub of his thumbs he soothed her fingers open. He gave a slight squeeze and a reassuring smile before he gathered the smallest amount of material between his fingertips and pulled. The soft material slowly eased down her arms like a whisper. Once her hands were free of the ever present gloves she felt oddly naked. She crossed her arms in front of her and watched as he made quick work of his own. Silk and leather laid aside, they faced each other again. The possibility now a reality she suddenly had a doubt, "Logan wait, what if it's a lie?"  
  
"I feel way to crappy for it to be a lie." She frowned unimpressed, she was serious. He promised, "Just a slight touch, if something happens, you'll pull back." Absently rubbing his palms against his pant legs he added, "I mean if something bad happens, you'll pull back." She rolled her eyes at his mischievous glint and nodded her assent.  
  
They both took a breath and with stonily serious faces began their approach. Two sets of eyes fixed on the two hands slowly crossing the distance through the air toward each other. With less than an inch to go they froze, looked at each other and laughed at the incredibly dramatic tone they had set. Rogue tilted her head and blushed as Logan rubbed at his face. With a mock scowl he huffed, "Okay, let's try this again." She grinned, they moved, fingertip touched fingertip and nothing happened.   
  
They remained perfectly still and gazed upon their own little miracle that was the slightest of touches. Amazed, Rogue started gulping in air. Feeling ridiculous but knowing it was true she admitted, "I'm too excited, I'm gonna hyperventilate."  
  
"Shhhh," Logan's voice soothed. "Close your eyes. Just remember to breathe, slowly. It's just me."   
  
Trying to calm her anxious breath Rogue closed her eyes and tried to focus. She felt Logan scoot closer to her, their knees now touching. Due to the closer proximity they were allowed to lower their arms, resting elbows on their own legs. She opened one eye to take a peek. "Not fair, you close your eyes too."  
  
A charming smirk. "Okay."   
  
On instinct Rogue raised her other hand and happily met his half way. Amused by their synchronicity they both expelled happy little puffs of air. Even eyes closed, she could tell he was smiling.   
  
Suddenly his hands flipped around and captured hers, his thumbs gently tracing back and forth, moving down slowly. Reaching her knuckles he paused, running circles around each and pressing firmly in between. Finally finding her fingers, tracking leisurely up and down. Wanting control she stilled him and took over. Returning each gesture she made sure to note every small hair, seek out each crease around every knuckle. Satisfied with their initial exploration they turned palm to palm, his resting beneath hers. Again fingers danced and thumbs massaged, every line and curve probed and contemplated. They reveled in each other's slight warmth, the hint of cool left behind after a caress. For some reason the well known truth about fingerprints entered her brain and she realized, even if they both somehow became blind and mute, from now on, she would know him anywhere.   
  
Again he changed angles, his fingers entwining intimately with hers. They both began a strong pulsing squeeze, thumbs still sliding against each other. She could hear him breathing deeply. She imagined him bathing in her scent as she was his. All she was aware of around her was Logan. She sensed him leaning forward and did the same until their foreheads met and rested. Warm breath against her face as he whispered, "It's like making hand love."  
  
Their hands continued the same rhythm even as she giggled, "Hey, you're ruining the moment."  
  
Rogue could feel his smile, "Oh, you don't like talking during hand love?"  
  
She tried to give an annoyed little sigh and ordered, "Arms."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Arms!" she repeated and immediately disengaged and started the journey up.  
  
"Oh," Logan breathed as small delicate female hands smoothly ran up the length of his limbs. It had been so long since any woman had caressed him, he had assumed once they even considered taking a step into the physical he would eagerly want to dive right in. He was pleasantly surprised to learn he desired to savour even the simplest touch. Her slender fingers ran feather-light up and down, nails swirling through hair. Then her palms pressed down, exploring the hard muscle. He returned each embrace, grazing against her perfect skin. Their ministrations where so thorough he found himself genuinely wondering if he had ever felt more intimate with anyone, and they were only at arms.  
  
At his elbows her hands slipped underneath and she traced a path back down to his hands. He heard her faintly exclaim, "Soft."  
  
At the note of surprise in her voice they both opened their eyes and pulled back a bit to look at each other. "Marie?"  
  
Rogue turned his arm over and ran her fingers along the underside. After lingering for a moment she gave a reflective smile and explained, "I forgot that men could be soft." In a familiar gesture Logan reached out and tucked a few stray hairs behind her ear, but for the first time, as he finished he allowed his bare thumb to trace the curve of her cheek. She rose to her knees as his palm cupped her face. She ran a finger down the ridge of his nose, drew her thumbs over his eyebrows, brushed the backs of her fingers against his sideburns, just like she had always wanted to. Saving the best for last, she sank her naked fingers deep into his hair. As she slipped through the slightly curly strands she couldn't help but say, "Oh my God, it's silky!"  
  
Logan chuckled, "Just wait till I've actually washed it recently."  
  
She grinned down at him, "I am going to kiss you now."  
  
"Thank God," he murmured, returning her reverent smile. He closed his eyes as she started planting gentle kisses all over his face. She chose her locations very carefully; the corner of his forehead, an eyebrow, a cheek, his chin. Not wanting to rush her along, but starting to burn, his mind started a silent chant; lips, Marie, lips. Meanwhile, Rogue's brain was simply singing that she was kissing Logan and it wasn't a dream. An eyelid, the tip of his nose, the corner of his mouth and finally, finally his lips.   
  
Once there she didn't stray. At first their lips barely whispered against each other. Lightly brushing, occasionally taking the tiniest of nips, the gentlest suckle. Surprising them both, Rogue was the first to venture out with her tongue, allowing just the tip to be caught between his lips. Eagerly he greeted her and mouths now fully open, they began to deliciously caress. Control was quickly fading to obsolescence. Without breaking contact he rose to his knees, wrapped his arms around her and pulled her body tightly against him. Hands roamed and clutched, tongues stroked insistently. Feeling his hands graze her throat she captured him in mouth and sucked hard, delighted to hear him groan.   
  
Just as he felt the almost overwhelming urge to guide her to the metal floor, Logan's brain conspired against him by choosing that precise moment to remind him of exactly where they were. Half-heartedly trying to pull back, he started muttering between kisses, "Wait... Marie... Wait... We can't... We can't..." Finally catching her face between his hands, he looked down at her bewildered expression and regretfully explained, "We gotta stop. This," he gestured toward their surroundings, "is actually a bad situation we're in."  
  
"Right," she said between heaving breaths, "bad situation. Very bad. Have I mentioned how much I like the feel of your tongue in my mouth?"  
  
"Oh Jesus." He descended again, mouth practically crushing hers. Well just how the hell was he supposed to resist a comment like that? A few more luscious moments were all his brain would allow though, before reason had to return. To proceed any further could be a costly, not to mention humiliating, mistake. Hell, making out wasn't such a bright idea. Resolutely he placed his hands on her shoulders and pushed her away. The contact broken, he leaned forward again and rested his forehead against hers. "Marie, we have to stop."  
  
Sadly she wrapped her arms around his waist. "I know."  
  
Meaning the words more than he ever had in his life, "I'm sorry."  
  
She sighed against him. "No, you're right. Evil afoot. Escape plans need to be laid." She felt the rumbling beginnings of a laugh coming from inside him and turned deeply red. "Don't even think it. I swear to God, if you say it, I will hurt you."  
  
Together they crawled over to the nearest wall. They sat, leaning against the cool steel, his arm around her, her head resting on his chest. She found his other hand and entwined their fingers. Staring at the act she had once thought impossible Rogue muttered, "This sucks."  
  
Logan gave her a slight squeeze and kissed the top of her head. "Yeah darlin', it really does."  
  
Almost a whisper, "You know he did this to make me want to stay."  
  
"He's a smart man." His tone gentle, "Conveniently for us though, the Professor and the rest of the geek squad are just as smart. Now that we know this is possible, we will do whatever it takes to figure it out."  
  
Suddenly, "Wait, don't say you promise."  
  
Logan looked down at her confused, "Why?"  
  
Rogue crawled over him and sat, straddling his legs. Looking directly in his eyes, "I want this to be my promise." She took a breath and vowed, "I promise, be it this room, my own control or some other miracle, I will find a way that we can touch."  
  
Suddenly concerned how her thoughts were headed Logan rushed to reassure her. "Marie, you know it doesn't matter to me. There are a lot of ways..."  
  
With a grin, "I know, I know, there are a lot of ways we can be together." Hands on his shoulders, "Don't worry Logan, the med lab invading, weird surgical glove wearing sex debacle is not a moment from our lives I will ever forget." Softly she started tracing her thumb across his lips in contemplation. "Do you know what a beautiful mouth you have." He grunted. "No you probably don't. Truth is most people probably don't notice it cause your lips are always pressed so thinly together in some scowl or frown." He scowled at her. "Yeah, just like that."  
  
Hands clutching at her waist, "Maire..."  
  
Rogue continued, "But when you are just relaxed and breathing, like now, your mouth is beautiful Logan. Your lips look soft and full and I have always loved looking at them, wondering just what they would feel like." With absolute reverence, "I promise you and I promise myself, I am not going to walk through this life without kissing you."  
  
Logan leaned up to meet her as she descended. Soft lips again joyfully brushed against hers, parting slightly. Feather light, sweet and so good. They lost themselves again for just a moment. A slight tingling sensation built inside her. His body stiffened beneath her suddenly. Then his voice was ringing in her head ~Marie!~  
  
  
  
Final Author Notes: My defense for the mutation suppressing room? If the man can build a machine that turns a human into a mutant despite the missing DNA, then he can damn well build a room that suppresses a mutant's mutation. No?  
  
Hand Love: I experienced hand love at an acting retreat eons ago. We paired off into partners, closed our eyes and held hands ... for thirty minutes. We were free to do whatever we wanted, anything below the elbows was fair game. In the exercise we were then split up and had to find each other again, eyes still closed, just by recognizing the other person's touch. While some people remained just playful, for my partner and I it was a very intense experience. And now, if you can convince your partner it isn't stupid, I HIGHLY recommend it. (Obviously not the separation part, cause if there is only two of you, that would kinda be dumb.) Trust me on this.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



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